Seeking the Ruin of Souls
by Godspeed Revolution
Summary: She wasn't supposed to get involved. But when Eliul targeted her, Castiel had to stop him. Caught up in the war between angels and demons, how will she survive?
1. Thursday

Disclaimer. Don't own _Supernatural_ or its created characters.

Rated T for violence and mild language.

A/N: Gentle readers, you should know that this is not a romance. This story takes place approximately a month before the start of season four. I wrote this as a fun piece to tide me over during the mid-season break, and as such did not meticulously plan, plot, and edit as I normally do. I intend to see this story through, hopefully finished before the show starts up again. Stick around for the whole thing, because I know where this is going and I have a good deal of it written. Comments are greatly appreciated.

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Thursday

Jane opened the plastic bag and unwrapped her sandwich. Meatball and mozzarella, her favorite. She opened the bottle of iced tea, took a long swig, and set it on the bench next to her. Gino's was a nice place to get a quick meal, but it was usually so crowded at lunch time that Jane preferred to eat on this bench outside. Besides, it was nice out. She could tell it was going to be a good day.

Jane had nothing better to do at the moment than sit and enjoy everything. Sunny skies, big, puffy clouds keeping the heat from getting unbearable. Friendly noise of people chatting inside, cars rolling by at comfortable speeds. Gino's certainly did make an excellent meatball sandwich.

"You know, the bus doesn't come until 1:15," Jane said. There was a man standing at the corner, fifteen feet away from her, looking a little lost. Maybe he was a tourist. Although she couldn't imagine why a tourist would be in this part of the city. Maybe a lost tourist. "And it's only 12:55," she called to him.

The man looked over at her. Yep, definitely a little lost. Although in a suit and trench coat, he looked rather more like a business man. He looked up and down the street, then walked over to her bench. "Thank you," he said. He had a deep voice, rocky, like he wasn't used to using it. Jane smiled. He seemed nice enough, and she couldn't help but notice that he was good-looking too. Jane was glad she'd spent extra time on her hair this morning. Her hair was still the same mousy brown, but it was as nice as it would probably ever look.

"I'm Jane," she said, and she extended her hand with a friendly smile.

"Jane. 'God is gracious'. And I'm… Castiel," the stranger said. He took her hand somewhat awkwardly, but his smile was genuine. His hand was very warm.

"Right," she said, half smiling, wondering at his strange small talk. "Castiel. What is that, Spanish?"

"Hebrew, actually," he said. He had deep blue eyes and a piercing stare that made Jane feel unnerved, as if he was looking through her. She blinked and broke eye contact, unsettled.

"So, you look a little lost out here. Are you from out of town?" she asked.

"You might say that. But I'm not lost. I'm here… looking for someone." He looked down the street again, watching people moving down the sidewalks.

"Maybe I can help you. What do they look like?" Jane asked.

"That wouldn't help, I'm afraid," he said. He fixed her again with that intense stare.

Jane shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "O…kay. Well, it was nice talking to you, Castiel, but I've got to get going." She crinkled up her sandwich wrapper and screwed the lid on her iced tea. "Good luck with finding who you're looking for," she said as she stood and tossed the wrapper into a garbage can.

"I'll need it," she heard him say quietly, but she did not turn back as she walked away.

Friday

"A double mocha-frappachino, with extra cinnamon. No, no, a DOUBLE," Jane said, pointing to the menu. Inwardly she groaned. This new guy at the café never got her orders right.

Finally receiving her coffee and confirming that it was in fact a double mocha-frappachino with cinnamon, Jane made her way to the table where her friend Danielle already sat. Jane plunked her Styrofoam cup down and climbed the rickety bar stool, which had to be carefully maneuvered so as to not tip over on its spindly legs. She sighed heavily and looked into her cup.

"What's the matter with you?" Danielle asked, absentmindedly stirring her own coffee as she stared out the window.

"He didn't put enough cinnamon in it," Jane said glumly.

Danielle snorted into her cup, and Jane cracked a smile. She took a sip. Okay, it wasn't that bad.

"So are you coming to the thing tonight?" Danielle asked after a few moments of contented silence.

"What thing?"

Danielle rolled her dark eyes in exasperation. "Come on, we've been talking about this forever! Nick and his band are playing at the club tonight and everyone is going to be there," she said, moving her hands as she talked so her bracelets clinked together.

"The Oyster Bar? I hate that place," Jane said.

Danielle looked appalled. "Jane, Nick invited you, _personally_. You have got to go." She nodded her head on each word. "It's the first big thing of the term, and he's really good, you know."

"Whatever, you just want to go for Brian, right?" Jane said, laughing. Danielle smiled guiltily.

"Okay, okay, I may have a slightly greater interest in the drummer than the band as a whole, but seriously, it's going to be fun." She looked at her imploringly, her almond shaped eyes wide in a puppy-dog pout.

Jane pondered for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I'll go, but I have a ton of work to do for Furmanek. And it's got to be done by Monday, uhg." She rubbed her temples as if to ward off a migraine.

"What? He's already assigning you stuff?" Danielle asked, a look of incredulity on her face.

"Yep. Three pages on Milton and his major themes."

"Furmanek is a jerk. The term's barely started and he's giving you the heavy stuff? You should drop the class," Danielle said, nodding seriously as she sipped her coffee.

"I need the credits to graduate. And don't worry, I can get it done, I just have to, you know, actually read Milton," Jane said. She tapped her foot against the table leg, trying to figure out how she was going to manage this.

"Hey, that guy is staring at you," Danielle suddenly said in a half-whisper.

Jane turned to where she was looking, out the window they were seated by. "What? Where?"

"Right there, in the trench coat," Danielle said.

There was indeed a man in a trench coat standing on the sidewalk across the street. He seemed to be looking in her direction.

"Huh. I think that's the guy I met yesterday. He was… lost or something," Jane said, looking back at the man. It was too far away to tell if he was looking at her, but he certainly was standing there very intently.

"Maybe he's stalking you," Danielle said. She cupped her hands around her eyes and leaned towards the glass. "He's kind of cute."

Now it was Jane's turn to snort. She shook her head, trying to dismiss it, but it unsettled her somehow.

"Excuse me. Are you using this sugar?"

Jane started at the voice. She turned quickly to see a man standing at their table, pointing to the bowl of sugar cubes. She hadn't even heard him walking up.

"No, sure, take it," Danielle said carelessly.

"Thanks," the stranger said, but he looked right at Jane, and she felt cold when they locked eyes. She had never seen him before—ordinary, middle-aged man, nothing exceptional or interesting. But he smiled in a way that was almost leering as he took the sugar and left. Jane watched him go, her eyes big and untrusting. Danielle hadn't noticed a thing.

Jane turned back to the window. The man in the trench coat was gone.

"So I'll see you there tonight?" Danielle asked as she stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. If I can tear myself away from Milton," Jane replied. She scoured the street one last time, but there was no sign of the man. What had his name been again? Something weird….

"Okay, I've got class. See ya," Danielle said, and she grabbed her cup and dashed out.

Jane sat with the dregs of her coffee for a few moments longer. She looked around the coffee shop. The man who had asked for the sugar was gone too. Jane suppressed a shiver, gulped down the last of her coffee, and left.


	2. Target

Disclaimer: Don't own _Supernatural_, don't own Castiel. The rest belongs to me.

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Target

"I know, I know! He was right there in front of me _the whole time_ and I'm staring at the wall behind him, and I didn't even see him, so he comes up to me—"

"Wait, you said the other guy—"

"No no no no, that was _later_, duh, and anyways, he's coming up to me, and I'm thinking he wants to talk, you know? So then—" Jane paused dramatically and sucked in a huge breath, which she promptly let out in an enormous giggle.

"Don't do that to me!" Danielle hopped up and down in mock-aggravation, laughing along with her friend.

"Okay, okay. So he's like 'Hey', and I'm like, 'Hey yourself, you hot hunk of man-pretty'—"

"You did _not_ say that to him," Danielle burst in, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, but I was thinking it. So I'm expecting him to ask me about our last class, right? And then I notice that he's totally drunk—"

Danielle rolled her eyes again, as if to say that should be obvious.

"—like, _really, really_ drunk, and he starts asking me if he can use my phone—"

Danielle squealed in delighted outrage, and Jane tossed her hair back to show her annoyance of ten minutes ago.

"—and I'm getting pretty miffed, you know? So he's standing there slurring about my phone—"

Jane's phone at that moment began ringing. Danielle screamed and immediately laughed. "It's him, it's totally him!" she shouted.

"No way, he's probably passed out in a bathroom stall right now," Jane said between giggles. She flipped open her phone and held it to her ear.

"Hi, Mom," she said a moment later, to which Danielle responded with an exasperated eye roll. She pointed to her watch and whisper-yelled, like she always did when she was trying to talk to someone occupied on the phone. "I'm just gonna go, okay?"

"Yeah, bye," Jane whisper-yelled back, flapping her hands and grinning to show she'd heard. "No, Mom, that was Danielle. Mom says 'Hi'!" Jane yelled at Danielle's retreating form, now strolling down the darkened sidewalk on her way to her apartment. Danielle waved a hand behind her and started singing something unintelligible.

"It's not that late Mom. And I swear, I did not touch the tiniest amount of alcohol. Yeah, it was a club, but it's for the college students, you know? They know—" Jane paused in her conversation as her mother talked over the phone. "—okay, okay. And it is a Friday night, you know. I'm allowed to have fun once in a while" She kicked an aluminum can down the sidewalk and watched it veer into the gutter.

"I'm only three blocks from my apartment, Mom. And this part of town is really safe. I'm a big girl, I can walk home by myself," she said into the phone. "Okay, okay enough about me," she said after a few more moments of her mother's tinny voice berating her over the line. "How's everything over there? What's Maggie been up to?"

Another pause as Jane walked down the sidewalk, shadows twisting as she moved under the street lights. She laughed into the phone. "Jacob said that? Can I talk to him? Oh wait, he's probably in bed right? Yeah, curfews suck when you're seven. …. No, it's okay, I'll see you guys tomorrow. I told you I'm stopping by. …. Laundry, remember? .... I know, I know, I have the craziest family. …. Okay, love you, see you tomorrow. Bye."

Jane snapped her phone shut and put it in her purse. She listened to the sound her shoes made clicking against the pavement and hummed the song Danielle had been singing. How did it go again?

Jane was not afraid of walking home at night. She had lived here for two years, and what she'd told her mother about these parts being safe was true. She had never had any trouble. The streets were clean and brightly lit. She was not worried.

Jane stopped abruptly on the sidewalk. The streets were still brightly lit, but suddenly she realized there was very little noise. No passing cars, no fellow pedestrians, no friendly chatter from late-night restaurants. The street light hummed above her and coated her with a harsh, yellow glow.

Jane turned around slowly. She had not been quite right about there being no fellow pedestrians. There was a man on the sidewalk. Close by, maybe twenty feet. He stared at her as she stared at him.

Jane ran for it. Her purse thumped behind her and she wished to God she hadn't worn high-heels as she ran at a speed that might literally be breakneck, expecting to trip at any moment. She didn't need to turn around to know the man was following her.

Her feet pounded at the ground. Her breath was catching in her throat, ragged and thin. If she reached for her phone she would have to slow down—all the building were closed up—her apartment was two blocks away—she was five foot five and a hundred fifteen pounds and she would never be able to fight him off—his footsteps were getting closer and they were much stronger than hers, pounding, pounding—

Jane turned a corner and scraped her shoulder on the brick wall. Pain. She ran a few steps more, wondering if she felt blood trickling down her arm. She stopped in her tracks and lurched. The man was standing in front of her. No, he couldn't be, he was _behind_ her—

"Hello, sugar," he said. He smiled.

Jane recognized him now. It was the man from the coffee shop, the one who'd asked for the sugar. Leering, smiling, teeth white and glistening. She felt the panic rise, felt her eyes go wide and her legs shake.

She dashed across the street, desperate to get anywhere but here, there must be someone nearby, must be someplace open, must be a light in one of those windows. But there wasn't. Cold, dark, empty. There was no help. She couldn't help herself, she turned around to look behind her. The smiling man was following her, not bothering to run, but he would get to her.

Jane made one last desperate bid for escape and summoned all her energy into a burst of speed. She was almost across the street, just a step to go. And she tripped. Fell over the curb, knelt sprawled on all fours, knees grazed, hands stinging, and certainly about to die. There was no way she would get away now. She had barely half a second to realize the man was about to catch her and she couldn't get up in time. She turned to look at him, and there he was, almost there, her death.

The next thing Jane saw was a blinding light. It came from down the street and appeared behind a corner and hit her like a solid force. She couldn't tell if everything was moving too fast or too slow, but it all felt unreal as she watched the car hit the man head-on. He turned to look at the car and the lights illuminated his face so that Jane could see his expression perfectly just before it hit him. He did not look scared. It hit him dead center and he flew fifteen feet back, tossed like a rag doll, like he had no weight. His body fluttered in ways that it shouldn't move, bones broken and crushed and fluid. He fell to the ground with a hideous sound, wet and cracking, and the car skidded away, tires squealing and the acrid smell of burnt rubber and exhaust in the air. The red tail lights disappeared from view. The car didn't even stop.

Jane sat for a moment, barely a second. Then she stood up, eyes still locked on that immobile body in the middle of the street. He was dead. There was no way he could survive that. She'd seen it, heard it, smelled it. Broken bones and blood leaking out.

The man stirred. Jane started like she'd been shocked. There was no way, no way….

He stood up. Looked toward her. He could see her right there, standing paralyzed, entranced by what she was seeing, horrified as he walked over to her, like some creature from a horror movie, dead but walking. Half his face was crushed. She could see the bones sticking out in wrong places, but there was very little blood. Strange, that. She realized she as going to die if she didn't find the courage to run.

Suddenly, Jane felt a hand pull her up. She turned and saw a figure, a man, dark hair, khaki coat. The man from the bus stop, the lost tourist, the man outside the coffee shop with the intense stare. Castiel. She remembered his name and gripped his hand and ran.

Jane did not look behind her as they ran. Castiel pulled her along faster than she would have thought possible, flying along the sidewalk, down some path she didn't know. He stopped abruptly outside some building, she couldn't tell what, and didn't care either. He pushed the door open and pulled her inside. She wanted to ask questions, desperate to know what was going on, but his look told her clearly enough that this was no time for talk. The door slammed shut and he put his hands on it and whispered something in a desperate, hurried tone. Jane stepped back, the feeling of dis-reality sinking in again.

She looked around the room. It was almost completely empty, clearly old and abandoned. Dirty, cracked concrete floors and dirty, cracked brick walls. Most of the windows were boarded up and the only door was a rusted industrial sheet of metal. She was glad to see Castiel had pulled down the bar, locking it.

Castiel turned away from the door. A mixture of relief, worry, and anger marked his face. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Jane. What's wrong?"

Jane stood in the middle of the empty room, facing him, lit in a puddle of light from a bare bulb in the ceiling. She could not move a muscle. Her eyes went wide with panic as she found herself paralyzed. She tried to move a finger, take a step, but it was as if her muscles had been turned to lead. She could not even shake when she heard footsteps in the dark reaches of the warehouse.

Behind her, a figure emerged from the shadows, shoes tapping on the cement. Jane could not turn to see him, but she knew it was the man with the broken face, the man who should be dead but wasn't.

The man stepped into the light and smiled at Castiel.

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A/N: Yay, action chapter! Next one tomorrow.


	3. The Adversary

Disclaimer: Don't own _Supernatural_, don't own Castiel.

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The Adversary

"Eliul," Castiel said. His voice had power, his sharp eyes cut like daggers through the air, directed at the figure in front of him.

The figure was unmoved. He half-smiled, his facial muscles tightening into something like a smirk, sickly and wrong. Jane could not understand it, but it sent cold shivers down her spine and filled her with unspeakable horror.

"So you came for the mortal?" Eliul asked. Derision was heavy in his voice, made menacing by sarcasm and hatred. He moved next to Jane and put his face close to hers. "What is she to you? Something special?" He tracked a finger down her face, cold and painful.

"I have sworn to oppose you, Eliul, and I will not allow you to harm innocents," Castiel said. _So come and bloody save me!_ Jane shouted in her head. He was far away, across the whole room, why didn't he jump in and rescue her?

"Innocents," Eliul said, tasting the word. He looked down at Jane and leered, eyes dark, no warmth. The last vestige of humanity was gone. Jane saw the black eyes and, for perhaps the first time in her life, understood what evil was. "There are no innocents in this world," he said.

Castiel said nothing, but the lights flickered, and some deep rumbling, almost unnoticeable, felt in the bones, shook the room. Power crackled in the air. Jane could not explain it except instinctually, but she felt the greatness of these two beings, whatever they were. She felt the presence of something otherworldly, something so far beyond the scope of her experience that she could not begin to comprehend it. She closed her eyes and whimpered. _Please God, I never did anything bad. Let this all be a dream._

The lights sparked out above her and Jane screamed, surprised she could get the sound out, expecting the very air to explode with all the power and tension, or maybe just expecting to get electrocuted. There was rustling all around her and she saw movement through her light-blinded eyes, ill adapted to the semi-darkness left by the exploding lights. The figures had hurled themselves at each other, moving beyond her scope of vision. One of them slammed the other against the wall, shaking the whole building. Jane couldn't tell who it was, the meager light coming through the dirty windows not enough to reach the dark corners. She hoped it was the bad one.

Suddenly, it was silent. Jane strained to see what was going on. With an effort, she ripped her head around and pulled something in her neck, barely noticing the pain. One of them had the other against the wall, held up impossibly, as if it was weightless, neck gripped in an iron hand. It was Castiel who had overpowered the black-eyed thing. Jane could see his face. It was terrible, turned in a way that was both awful and beautiful, anger and justice written across his features. The words came to Jane's mind: _An avenging angel_.

The thing laughed. Cold, chilling laughter that made Jane feel sick. Strangled as it was, it croaked out the laughter of despair and victory. "Kill this mortal coil, Castiel? I'll only find another…."

Castiel was angry, and he only gripped it tighter. "You will be defeated in your purpose," he said. He looked the thing in the eye as it laughed again and Jane shook in fear.

"You are outnumbered, seraph. We _rise_ again, with the help of weak _humanity_…. _The world will fall_," the being said, hatred dripping through his teeth. Castiel watched it with mounting aversion, and something like horror in his face. The being only laughed harder, seeing his adversary pause, questioning.

The black-eyed man suddenly drew up his hand and raked his fingers across Castiel's right arm. Castiel flinched badly and almost dropped the thing, sliding it to the ground as he fell to his knees, but he kept his hand tight around its neck. As he knelt there the other being twitched and the laughter died away in its chest. Black smoke poured out of its mouth and even as its eyes went wide and hollow Castiel did not let go. A moment later and the smoke was gone, evaporated into oblivion.

Castiel released the body and knelt panting on the floor. Jane could not tear her eyes away from the sight, but she found she could move again. Whatever had chained her muscles together was gone. She walked up to the two figures, one crouched in pain, the other unmistakably dead. His eyes were open, clear but dead, empty of that thing that had inhabited them.

"What… _the hell_… was that?" Jane asked the kneeling man.

He glanced at her and stood up. He was cradling his right arm to his chest, the sleeve of his jacket coated with blood. Funny though, there were no tears in the fabric.

"A demon. One of Lucifer's army. I have been tracking him," Castiel said. He crouched down by the body, examining it, it seemed, but he turned away unsatisfied.

"A demon," Jane repeated blankly. She too looked down at the body. Typical, middle-aged guy, going bald and a little on the heavy side. Could have been her high school geometry teacher, or some guy she saw on the bus every day. She half-scoffed, open-mouthed, not willing to believe it.

"So what does that make you?" she asked incredulously, hearing her voice rise with hysteria, but deciding she was justified in this case.

"I'm an angel of God," the man said. Matter-of-factly, simply, looked her straight in the eye. Those eyes that were too deep, too piercing. They saw right into her soul. Jane shivered and heard the rustling again. This time she realized what it was. _Wings._

"Okay… okay," she said slightly panicky, in the tone she used to calm herself down after she found out she had to take Chemistry 101 all over again if she wanted to graduate college. "There's a dead guy on the floor, and I just saw a guy kill him, and I'm in a freaky abandoned warehouse, and apparently, now I'm in an episode of _Touched by a_ _Freakin'_ _Angel!_"

"_This_," she gesticulated wildly around the room, indicating the dead man, the shattered lights, and the bleeding man in front of her, "is completely _insane!_"

"But it _is_ true," Castiel said. He stepped towards her. "I'm sorry to have brought you into this, but it seems it was unavoidable. I did not expect Eliul—" Suddenly he faltered. His knees shook and he seemed close to collapsing. Despite herself and everything that was running through her head, Jane rushed to his side and supported him.

"You're bleeding all over the place. What did it—he—whatever do to you?" Castiel gave no reply, not that Jane waited for one. "Ugh, this is exactly what I do _not_ need. I guess I have to get you to a hospital…."

"No," Castiel said firmly.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Jane asked, the whiny tone creeping into her voice again. She just wanted to wake up at home and have all of this go away. "I have a bleeding _angel_ on my hands and a dead guy in a warehouse—" she cast the body another frightened glance—"and this is like, out of _The Exorcist_ or something…." She trailed off as she felt Castiel slump against her shoulder. "Dude, do _not_ die on me! There is no way I'm explaining two dead bodies to the cops!"

"Do you know of somewhere safe?" Castiel said. His voice was strained, but he made an effort to support his weight.

Jane sighed heavily and somewhat shakily, feeling close to tears. "Yeah, yeah, I guess we can go to my apartment…. Anything's better than here."

"You have an apartment?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, have you seen the college dorms? They're like, ten by ten cinder block cells. I signed up to get a degree, not live in a penitentiary." Jane tried to get a grip on herself. _Okay, this going to be okay. Probably._ "Let's get you out of here, angel boy. Before you bleed all this holy blood onto my sweater."


	4. A New Experience

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

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A New Experience

Castiel's coat came off slowly, awkward from extra care. Even that didn't keep the blood from smearing all over the sleeve. Rather a lot had already gotten onto the side and begun to dry, brownish spots that stood out against the khaki. Jane wondered what the formula was for getting blood stains out of clothing.

She pushed him into a chair by the sink. It was hard to read his expression, not that that was anything new. He didn't seem to be in much pain, except that his brows were knitted a little closer together than usual. He hadn't even made a sound while getting the jacket off. At least he looked more alert and less like he was about to keel over at any moment.

Jane rolled up Castiel's shirt sleeve for him while he looked intently somewhere near the ceiling. It wasn't as bad as she'd thought, thank goodness. The gash on his forearm was messy and ragged, but not very deep. She didn't think it would require stitches, and in any case there wasn't much skin around the wound left to sew together. The cut stretched from the top of his hand to the middle of his forearm, curving around to the inside slightly. It was still bleeding in places, but the half-dried blood covering his arm made it look worse.

"How's it feel?" she said, more to make conversation than anything else. The intense silences were starting to unnerve her.

"It hurts," Castiel said succinctly. There was something like wonder in his voice.

"You've never felt pain before?" Jane ventured.

"Not pain like humans feel," he said. "This is a new experience."

Jane shook her head in disbelief. She still couldn't get over it…. Not that she really wanted to get over it. This was a bizarre occurrence, after all. If this stuff started becoming normal in her world, then she should worry.

"Well, this is going to hurt a little more," she said, opening the plastic bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Castiel looked over interestedly.

"I've seen humans do this before. It never looked very pleasant."

Jane smiled grimly. She splashed the clear contents of the bottle onto a wash cloth. "Brace yourself," she said.

Castiel's eyes widened at the fresh pain, but he gave no other indication of his reaction to this "new experience".

Jane couldn't help chuckling. "Welcome to humanity, angle-boy. This stuff is daily routine for the rest of us. Well, probably not this, exactly. Most people don't have to be patched together after being attacked by—"

"Don't say his name," Castiel broke in suddenly. His was leaning his head against the wall behind him, eyes closed. Somehow, he still managed to look as serious as usual. "Not even here. Just talking about it can open doors we want to keep shut."

"Right." Jane didn't like to admit to herself how scared that comment made her. 36 hours ago she was living a perfectly normal, albeit slightly boring life. A plain Jane life, she used to say. Now things were happening she didn't have words for.

"What is it?" Castiel asked. He was looking at her now, those blue eyes intense and sincere. She had the unnerving feeling that he could see right through her.

"I was just thinking… how ironic it is. I can't even watch horror movies. And now I'm living in one." She tried to laugh, but it came out broken, like a sob.

He reached his uninjured arm to grasp her hand. He caught it unexpectedly, and Jane froze halfway to the sink.

"I'm sorry I brought you into this. You are an innocent, and I will make sure you are not harmed. I won't endanger you with my presence after this." He was so solemn, so earnest, his face clear and open but strange power in his voice. Jane immediately believed him, and she felt safe for the first time in twelve hours. It was a good feeling.

She gave a tiny smile, and he let her hand go. It was weird how calming his presence was, but Jane wasn't about to argue with that after the day she'd had. She rinsed the wash cloth in the sink and turned back to her patient, who was now back to examining the upper reaches of the walls.

Jane perched on the edge of the bathtub and began dabbing at the dried blood on Castiel's arm. It really wasn't too bad, altogether. It had already almost stopped bleeding, only a couple deep spots still oozing. It could have been much worse, she thought, and remembering what had inflicted it, she repressed a shudder.

"How're you holding up?" she asked after a few moments of her doctoring. Castiel looked like he was handling his new found pain, but she noticed that he was moving his lips silently and rapidly.

Castiel seemed to feel the question did not deserve a response. Or perhaps he didn't trust himself to speak. Still, Jane thought it would be a good idea to try to keep his mind on something else.

"So, how does this whole angel thing work? I mean, aren't you guys supposed to be spirits or whatever?"

"We are. But we sometimes find it necessary to inhabit a human body," he said.

"Well, that's… freaky. I didn't know angels could do that," Jane said, shifting in her seat.

"Generally, we don't. We have not have not walked the earth in millennia."

"So what are you doing here now?" Jane asked.

Castiel fixed her with a cold look. "That is dangerous information."

"Jeez, sorry." Jane tried to hide her rather hurt feelings. If he didn't trust her now, he wasn't likely to ever trust her. They sat in tense silence for a few moments.

"I saw what you did back there at the warehouse. What is that, like angel-ninjitsu?" Jane said, trying to patch up the broken silence.

"You could say that. I have… certain abilities beyond the scope of normal human powers, although I am limited in this form."

"Like you can get hurt," Jane said. This wound was testament enough to that.

"Yes. Although I'm not likely to die in this body, not by normal means at least. It will take some time for me to get used it though. Certain powers are dampened by flesh and bone, and I may not regain them so quickly." He examined his own uninjured hand, flexing it, feeling the blood and muscles.

Jane raised her eyebrows as she fished out a few butterfly bandages from the first-aid kit. There wasn't much she could do with them, considering how most of the skin around the wound was torn away, but she did her best with it. She finished the job with a thick padding of surgical gauze and tape.

"All in all, not too shabby for my first major foray into the medical field. Maybe I should consider a career in medicine," she remarked. "On second thought, my chemistry grades are in the toilet, and I have no desire to make the effort to remove them."

Castiel gave no indication he found this humorous, but Jane felt he was amused anyway.

She stood up and admired her work. "You're good to go, angel-man. You'll have a wicked looking scar, but that just adds to the intrigue."

Castiel stood. "Thank you, Jane," he said. He pressed her hand into his and grasped it tight. Jane was surprised at his warmth, but he looked so genuine she couldn't help but smile and shake her head, as if to say it was nothing. "And I won't trespass here any longer," he said with finality. He took his bloody coat from the door rack and stepped out of the bathroom.

Jane hesitated for just a moment. This was hands down the most dangerous man—angel—_thing_ to ever walk into her life, and she ought to be salaaming him out the door. But she only hesitated for a moment.

"Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you're going? Do you even have a place to stay? Or money? Where did you come from?"

"Some distance from here, I believe. My battle with the demon took me farther than I expected," he said, stopping in the hallway and turning around.

"So what were you planning to do, sleep in a church? Never mind, don't answer that. You have to stay here," Jane said, as if it was an inevitability.

"You don't need to look out for me." There he went again with that soul-searching look.

"Who says I'm doing it for you? Please remember that there's a crazy _demon_—" she whispered the word "—out there who probably wants me dead now, and up 'til yesterday I didn't even believe in them, so I sure as hell don't know how to fight one."

Castiel looked like he was considering. Whether he was considering her offer or how much he regretted ever involving a human was yet to be determined.

"All right. I'll stay here the night, for your protection. Although you'll be safer when I'm gone," he said finally. He looked like he was going against his better judgment. "This is only for the night, you understand. I have a job to do here. It's too important to be allowed to be slowed down."

"I get it, Cas. And hey, you can take the couch," Jane said happily.

"Generous. I think."


	5. Pancakes

Disclaimer: Don't own _Supernatural_, don't own Castiel.

* * *

Pancakes

Jane woke up at 7:38, according to the digital clock on her nightstand. It was much earlier than she was accustomed to, especially for a weekend. Saturday mornings were usually spent in a semi-comatose state after the rigors of a long week of studying and Friday night partying. Nothing was further from her mind this morning, however. She climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the door, carefully creaking it open.

No demons lurked, and no angels either. Down the short hallway was her living room, an area that encompassed half her apartment and included the kitchen and dining room area. She padded down the linoleum tiles, looking towards the couch.

Rats. He wasn't there. Maybe angels didn't sleep after all. Slightly disappointed she hadn't caught him sleeping, Jane wondered where Castiel could have gone. Unless he'd already left….

"Good morning."

Jane gave a little yelp of fright. "Jeez, don't do that to me! How did I not see you there?"

Castiel's answer was a cryptic look. He was sitting in a chair by the window, watching through the slats in the blinds. He looked over at her as he spoke and the sun hit his face in just the right angle that he seemed illuminated from within.

Jane was suddenly aware that she was standing there in her skimpy, grungy pajamas with her hair a crazy mess.

"Hold on…." she said as she raced back to her bedroom, rifled through the clothes on the floor and pulled on an outfit of questionable cleanliness. She yanked her fingers through her hair and pulled it into a ponytail, more or less.

She reappeared a moment later in the living room. Castiel was still seated, looking through the window. He was hunched over, and he seemed lost in thought.

"So, um, what are your plans?" Jane asked as she sat down on the couch, which bore no appreciable signs of having been slept on.

"I just stayed to say goodbye," Castiel said. Now he stood and looked like he was preparing to go.

"What? No, you have to at least stay for breakfast. I mean, you've got to be hungry after last night," she said, jumping up herself.

She had ordered take out the night before and spent dinner watching Castiel poke at it bemusedly.

Castiel looked slightly exasperated.

"Come on, I'll make pancakes. You can't say no to pancakes," Jane said.

"Fine. But after that I have to go."

Jane's face lit up. "Great. I just have to make one quick stop. Just don't leave the apartment. You might, uh, get hit by a car or something," she said, grabbing a wad of cash on the table and speaking as she unlocked the front door.

Jane hurried downstairs and out of her building and raced across the street, which, fortunately, was not very busy on a Saturday morning. On the opposite curb she turned back to look at her building and located the window of her living room. She couldn't see him sitting there anymore.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the convenience store across the street, purchases in hand. The plastic bag contained a razor and toothbrush, and she dashed back into her building with it.

Castiel was examining her family photos when she made it back. He turned from the wall lined with frames and looked at her inquisitively.

"I got this for you. You're looking kind of scruffy, you know." She handed him the plastic bag, which he took with a bemused nod.

"You can clean up in the bathroom while I'm making breakfast. There's soap and towels and stuff in there."

She watched him walk to the bathroom, smiled and shook her head. Jane headed for the kitchen, which was getting rather neglected these days. She wasn't much of a cook, but she was pretty sure she could manage pancakes. Fortunately, there was pancake mix in the pantry. There was fake maple syrup as well, and some blueberry jam in the fridge that was probably still okay. She considered asking Castiel if he liked eggs, but decided that he probably didn't know either.

While the pancakes were cooking on the stove, Jane peeked around the corner at the closed bathroom door. She could hear water running.

The pancakes and friend eggs surfaced only slightly burned, and she was just finishing setting the table when Castiel emerged from the bathroom. He looked a bit better and was at least more or less clean-shaven, but Jane couldn't help bursting into laughter when she saw him.

"What happened to your tie? You get in a fistfight with it?" she said, laughing.

It was indeed a very messy tie. Castiel looked both annoyed and slightly apologetic. "I'm not exactly accustomed to this," he said, forehead creased in annoyance.

"Eons of wisdom and he can't even tie a tie," Jane said as she moved towards him. "Fortunately for you, my friend Alyssa made me go in costume to one of those Harry Potter movies, so I'm pretty much an expert at this. Hold still."

She undid the tie and rearranged it into a fairly neat knot. Passable, at least.

"All set," she said in mock seriousness.

"You'll have to teach me that one," Castiel said. Jane wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but she smiled anyway.

Breakfast went over better than dinner the night before. Whether it was because Castiel was getting used to that human condition known as hunger or because of Jane's constant nagging to eat another pancake, she eventually managed to get him fed. The stack of pancakes had dwindled considerably when Castiel pointed to the photographs on the wall.

"Who are those people in the pictures?" he asked, looking at them curiously.

"That's my family," Jane said, looking at them herself and smiling faintly.

"Your father is not in any of them."

"Very perceptive. No, he died when I was really young," Jane said, stabbing a final piece of pancake with her fork. "It's just my mom, my sister, and her kid, Jacob. His father a total jerk, you know…." Judging by the look on Castiel's face, he did not know. "Um, he didn't really stick around, so it's just us." She grinned and swallowed the bite.

Castiel was looking at her oddly.

"You have family near here?" he asked, intense eyes drilling into her across the table.

"Well, yeah. They live like five minutes from here," Jane said, frowning.

"We need to see them."

"What? Why?" she asked, completely baffled.

"There may be something—" he broke off mid-sentence. "We should see them." He looked at her earnestly.

"Um, okay. We can leave now, I guess. Are you… okay?" she said, standing up cautiously, wondering what his problem was. She dropped her fork and it clattered loudly on the plate.

"There's nothing wrong with me. But we need to go." All serious now. Jane was starting to get freaked out.

They left the apartment, Jane slamming the door shut harder than she meant to.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and added my story to their favorites. It's oddly fulfilling to find that other people like my story. Next couple chapters the plot's going to be picking up, so stay tuned.


	6. Painted Red

Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural,_ please don't sue me.

* * *

Painted Red

The leaves were wet under their feet. Slick with rain that should have dried up with the sun, the leaves littered the porch steps and made climbing them a rather more interesting task. Jane gripped the iron railing tight to keep from slipping.

It was a typical house, in a nicer part of the city, where the houses were well spaced and had plenty of trees. A typical door, shiny brass doorknob, and a wilted potted plant on the porch. Jane stood ahead of Castiel as she climbed the last step and made to knock on the door.

"Wait. Something's wrong," he said abruptly.

Jane looked back, hand still outstretched, alarmed.

"Stay here," he said. He moved past her and tried the door knob—it opened under his touch. His face was dead serious. Jane felt the panic rise in her throat and said nothing.

Castiel stepped into the house and closed the door quietly behind him. Jane, alone on the porch, stared at that doorknob, entranced by the sound the closing door made, ringing in her ears. What was it? She should go in. Had to go in. Castiel said not to. So what? Should she? Should—

The door opened again, and Castiel stood there. One look at him and Jane knew it was bad. Bad. The word stuck in her mind and seemed to fill everything.

Castiel, wordless, took her by the hand and led her through the door. It was all wrong. The house looked the same, everything in its place. Same as it had been last week when she'd visited. But it was wrong. There was something else. Not quite a smell, not quite a feeling, not quite a quality of the air. Something wrong.

Jane's heart was beating fast. She could feel it in her throat, thumping. When was the last time she'd been this scared? Castiel led her through the entranceway, into the living room. Then he let her go.

Jane could only stand there, presented with this sight. She could not make a sound. Her voice caught in her throat when she wanted to scream hysterically, or gasp, or anything. She was rooted, her eyes dancing through the room, and everything, everything, was bad wrong bad.

Her mother was on the floor. Her sister was on the couch. Her nephew was halfway into the kitchen, face on the linoleum, feet on the beige carpet. They were dead. _Oh_ _God, how could there be so much blood?_ On the walls, on the carpet, on the coffee table, on her mother's shoes. Her family was painted red. Jane stared and stared until she realized the hideous gasping noise was coming out of her mouth and her lungs were collapsing and her eyes would fall out and she turned around and ripped up the roots that were keeping her there. She forgot Castiel, she forgot where she was going, she could only think of her sister's wide, blood covered eyes and red, red everywhere.

Jane ran out of the house that smelled of blood and had that evil in it. She didn't look where she was going. She forgot which was the way home. She ran along the wet sidewalks and couldn't catch her breath and everything was so horribly, horribly wrong and how could there still be people outside, cars in the driveways, lights in the windows when her family was dead? Everything should be crashing down like it was in the middle of her chest, and she ran without knowing where she was going.

She stopped when her legs shook too much to run. Running felt better, running felt like she was doing something, if she stopped running she would have to think. She couldn't tell where she was. A parking lot, maybe. Wet cement. She sat down on a curb and tried to stop shuddering.

She knew he was there before she heard him. Standing there in front of her, looking down at her. An angel of God. Jane lifted her twisted face to look at him.

"He knows who you are. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this," Castiel said quietly, looking away.

Something new was rising in Jane's throat. It was something like hate.

"_You!_ You did this to them! It was your fault!" She jumped up and shrieked, hysterical, furious. She knew it was wrong, knew she was acting crazy, but she couldn't stop. "It's your fault they're dead! _You brought him to them!_" She gasped and tried to breath but her lungs weren't working properly.

"Why did you let me see them?" she whispered, but she knew there was no answer. She gave a shuddering sob and almost collapsed, but Castiel caught her. He pulled her up and she sobbed on his shoulder.

* * *

A/N: A short but necessary chapter. Good times have ended.


	7. The Beginning

Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural. _

The Beginning

One thought filled Jane's mind: Her life was over. Everything she had spent her meager 20 years living and knowing and loving was finished. It was as neat and precise as if her past had been cleanly scalpeled away, leaving these two distinct parts—her life before this morning, and her life now. She looked back at that girl who had existed only two hours ago, and saw she was gone forever. College, her apartment, her friends, her job—over.

What would take its place?

"Jane. We have to go," Castiel said.

Jane looked up. She sat on the couch, in her apartment, that piece of her old life. She nodded briskly and bit her lips together so she wouldn't cry. They were leaving, forever probably. It made sense. This part of her life was over.

She went to her bedroom closet and pulled out a duffle bag buried in the back. Without thinking, she pulled out shirts, jeans, socks, from her closet and stuffed them into the bag. She found the shoebox hidden in the bathroom cupboard with her emergency cash, a couple hundred dollars in all. She took a few toiletries and stuffed them in the duffle. What else to take? She looked around her bedroom, brightly painted walls, photographs littering the tables, all her hopes and personality. What did any of it matter now?

She picked up one of the photographs. It was held in one of those tacky frames, the word "Family" printed all over it in cheesy fonts, cheap plastic. The picture was her favorite. It showed her mother, getting older but still pretty, smiling so that she looked beautiful. Her sister was there too, always the pretty one, looking like she was in mid-laugh, eyes not quite connecting with the camera. Jane's nephew, Jacob, only five in that picture. Wearing the dopey dinosaur t-shirt Jane had bought him. He was smiling and had a front tooth missing. Jane was there too, in the middle of them, happy, laughing, loving her family. How she had taken it for granted. They had always been there to take these impromptu photos, not for any special occasion, but just because.

Jane took the picture out of the frame and folded it twice. She put it in the duffle and zipped it up. There was nothing else to take.

"Jane."

He was there again, standing in the doorway. This man with the strange deep eyes that could see through her, that ancientness in his young face. He looked profoundly sorry, in that quiet way of his that made it all the more meaningful.

"He'll come here. You will not be safe by yourself. This is my fault, I know that. I should never have let you become involved. Now he will target you." He stepped into the room. "I could not protect your family, Jane, but I will keep you safe."

Again, Jane knew she could trust him. She made a conscious decision at that moment, that she would not let this destroy her, that she would not let her family's death be in vain. She put her feelings in a box and swore they would be avenged.

She swung the duffle bag onto her back. "Where are we going, Castiel?"

"I know of a place. I have allies here, people who can help us. I was… foolish to fight Eliul on my own. We will regroup and find a way to stop him," he said.

"I thought you said it was dangerous to say his name," Jane replied.

"It doesn't matter anymore. He already knows we're here."

"Eliul." She said the name, feeling how it sounded. "I'm going to make him pay, Castiel. I want to help you. I want to send him back to hell."

"With God's help, we will." He looked Jane in the eyes, and she felt all his age and power in the sad look he gave her, the look that said he was sorry he had failed her. Jane didn't want his pity. She wanted blood.

* * *

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers. I considered combining these last two chapters because they are so short, but I think they needed to be seperated. I'm making up for it with a nice long chapter tomorrow.

* * *


	8. Revelations

Disclaimer: If you saw it on TV, I don't own it. Abdiel is mostly an OC, and although fans of Milton will recognize him, I don't expect Milton to have any problems with me using him.

* * *

Revelations

Castiel rapped his knuckles softly against the wooden door, stepped back and waited. Jane shivered in the night air. Her jacket was too thin for this weather, but she hadn't thought to take another one. How was it this cold in August anyway?

If Castiel noticed the cold, he gave no indication of it. They stood staring at the door for a few moments, silent in the dark, the porch lit by a tiny yellow light bulb above the front door. Jane was just beginning to think that no one was home when the door opened.

The room beyond was dark and she couldn't see who was standing there until he stepped into the light of the porch. It was a priest, clad in cardigan and collar, the small white square standing out against the black. He looked young, not yet forty, with blondish hair and a face that would have been pleasant if it didn't look so grave.

The priest looked at Castiel with apparent shock and concern, searching his eyes for answers. Before he could ask, however, Castiel spoke up.

"I ran into some trouble," he said grimly.

"Yes, I can see that," the priest said, casting an eye over Jane, not altogether approvingly. Jane looked down, embarrassed and feeling out of place, wishing she could just get out of here and get some rest. Did everyone have to point out how unwelcome she was?

There was a small awkward silence after his remark. Castiel cleared his throat and gestured towards the priest. "This is Abdiel. He's one of us." The priest—Abdiel—nodded towards Jane. She tried to smile, but her mouth wasn't working right. She settled on a nod back at him.

"She's been targeted by Eliul. You know what that means," Castiel said, looking gravely at the other man. Abdiel fixed Jane with another stare, brown eyes just as intense as Castiel's ever were. He nodded slowly.

"We'll talk," he said, and he gestured towards the door, stepping aside for the others. Castiel led the way, and as Jane passed Abdiel, she caught his eye and felt the full force of his stare, x-raying her, getting inside her head, she thought. She looked away quickly.

Castiel and Abdiel left her in the sitting room and went off further into the house, to talk about how royally everything was screwed up, she imagined. She was slightly annoyed at having been left here alone, but then again, she couldn't be expected to confer upon the angelic battle plans. Suddenly feeling very weary, she sat down on a sagging sofa and examined her predicament.

They'd come to this place outside of town, a church she'd never heard of, St. Augustine's according to the sign out front. The building she was now in was the rectory, a sad little brick building where the priest lived, located next to the church. It was pretty shabbily furnished, judging from this sitting room. Everything was very clean but quite worn, and it probably hadn't seen a new piece of furniture since the eighties. Still, that was to be expected with the vows of poverty and all that.

Jane sighed heavily, sucking in her breath hard and feeling it sting her chest. Maybe she'd been too hasty to give her promise that she would help the angels hunt down Eliul. After all, she didn't have a clue what she was doing—hell, just twenty-four hours ago she hadn't even believed in angels, let alone demons. Did they even need her? Surely an army of angels was way better suited to taking down demons than she was. This Abdiel guy certainly didn't seem too happy to have her tag along. Maybe she should just leave….

Then Jane remembered her family, and the things she saw in that house. She remembered her seven-year-old nephew face down on the floor, and the blood everywhere. Jane put her head in her hands and her shoulders shook, silently and wrenchingly. But she only allowed herself a moment for her grief. She straightened her shoulders, wiped her tears with her hands, and remembered that scene, engraving it in her memory. She would never, never forget. She dug her fingernails into her hands until they stung. No. She had made the right decision.

Jane heard footsteps and turned to see Castiel standing in the doorway. Rather pointlessly, she hoped he hadn't seen her crying. He was looking at her with sad eyes, comforting and consoling. She stood and faced him, shoulders squared. He stepped into the room and gestured for her to sit, taking a seat in a chair opposite the sofa. Jane sat back down.

"So? How screwed are we?" she asked.

Castiel shook his head to himself and almost chuckled. He looked up, fierce and intense again. "We'll be staying here for a while. This house is safe… protected against demons. We are working on a plan for defeating Eliul. We may be able to guess his next move."

"Yeah? What do you think it will be?" Jane asked.

Castiel was silent, looking at her with uncertainty.

"You can't protect me forever, Castiel. There's a demon out to get me, and God knows what else out there. I have to know. You have to teach me."

Castiel met her eyes for a long moment, but he was the one to break away. He looked off into the darkness, seeming to chose his words carefully. "Eliul and the other demons… many of them… are here to bring Hell on earth. It will be the end of the world if they succeed. They are breaking the… Seals, you would call them. They break enough of them and Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness himself, will be unleashed, and no power will be able to stop him." A long silence followed his words as Jane pictured the scenario he described. The Apocalypse. It made her feel cold and sick.

"How many Seals are there?" she asked finally in a small voice.

"The demons only need to break sixty-six, but there are many more. Some of them are being guarded by our forces, but we don't know where all of them are, or even what all of them are."

"Is that what you're doing here?"

"Partly," Castiel said.

Jane shook her head and rubbed her temples. This was all just too much…. Her family dead, the end of the world, angels and demons….

"What can I do?" she asked finally.

"What you can do is stay alive. That's all you need to concern yourself with," Castiel said, almost angrily, standing up now and looming over her.

Jane jumped up. "I want to help, Castiel! This is my world too, and I want to keep it from becoming Hell as much as you do, heck, probably more! Being alive isn't going to help much if the freaking devil is ruling the planet!"

Castiel looked at her sadly. "I never should have gotten you involved."

"Yeah, well, it's too late for that now," Jane said bitterly, turning away, angry at herself for having lost it and angry at Castiel for—just everything.

"You're tired. You need to sleep. You've had a difficult day and you're going to collapse if you don't rest," Castiel said. Jane scoffed and closed her eyes. A difficult day indeed.

"And what about you? You've got a human body now, angel-boy, and you need to sleep as much as I do," she retorted.

"Yes," he said pensively. "We can discuss this in the morning. There's a guest room upstairs for you."

Jane scoffed again and shook her head, rolling her eyes with her back turned, although she still had a feeling that Castiel knew what she as doing. "Yeah, goodnight, angel-boy," she said sarcastically as she stomped up the stairs.

Castiel, at the foot of the stairs, watched her go.

"She throws something of a wrench in our plans," a voice said behind him.

Castiel turned to see Abdiel standing there, watching him watch her. He didn't like the look on his face.

"I know," he said tersely. He looked up the stairs and heard the sound of her footsteps behind the door. "I never wanted to involve her. What happened to her... to her family... It's on my conscience."

Castiel walked across the entranceway and into the sitting room where they'd been a moment before. He sat on the sofa, shoulders hunched over, eyes scanning the blank wall in front of him, looking everything like a man defeated.

"I need to find someplace safe for her," he said, almost to himself.

Abdiel followed his movements and stood in the doorway, black suit almost blending in with the darkness. "There are no safe places anymore. And there especially won't be if we fail," he said.

Castiel turned to look at him. "What are you saying?"

Abdiel seemed to choose his words carefully. "Merely that it is perhaps... your duty to equip her for battle. Whether we like it or not, she is involved in this, and Eliul will kill her if he gets the chance. Or do worse."

There was a long silence, as Castiel sat with his eyes closed, and Abdiel leaned against the door frame.

"It wasn't your fault, Castiel. We do what we can."

"But I could have done more," Castiel said. There was bitterness in his voice, anger directed towards himself.

"Maybe, maybe not. You can wrestle with your conscience later. For now, we have work to do," Abdiel said.

Castiel sat in silence for a moment, lost in thought. Then he stood. "Yes. I appreciate your council, Abdiel. There are some who would say you should be the one with this mission." He looked out the window, into the almost pure darkness, seeing only he knew what.

"I lost that opportunity a long time ago. If this is the necessary price for my contrition, then so be it," Abdiel said.

"I only hope I can do what is needed of me. And this human... this mortal girl, she does indeed throw a wrench in our plans." He could see his own reflection in the darkened glass. How strange it was to have a reflection.

"My advice is the same," Abdiel said, somewhere behind him.

"And if I take it...train her into a soldier….What kind of life will she have? This is no way for mortals to live."

"Better than no life, which is what she will have if you leave her ignorant. Besides, she may prove to be useful."

Castiel shook his head, sighed, and looked away from the glass. He knew it was right, but why did it have to be so difficult? He'd made mistakes, so many mistakes, foolish, some of them, and she did not deserve to suffer for it. It seemed she would have to anyway. He mourned the innocence lost even as he knew it was pointless to dwell in it. There was a bigger picture.

Castiel turned around, his moment of weakness over and his face set. "Then there is only the question of Eliul. He chose this place for a reason. He intends to break a Seal here. We need to find it before he does."

"I have my own orders, Castiel."

"I understand that. But I require your cooperation." There was a hint of warning in his voice. "You know what's at stake here. Whatever your orders are, I am a superior officer, and you will obey me."

Abdiel nodded with the deference due to those of higher rank. "We're fighting for the same end, Abdiel. All of us need to work together. Some of us might not like to admit it, but we're fighting a loosing war, and we've lost too many battles already. This is one we can't afford to loose." He walked over to the other man, sober and intense. "Now, tell me everything."

* * *

5:00 AM, Sunday

Jane sat alone in the church, cold on the wooden pew as she watched the darkened stained glass windows slowly grow lighter with the coming dawn. They were just dark blocks of dead color now, shapes and figures impossible to determine, but when the sun rose they would reveal their saints and holy scenes. The church was likewise dark, no lights turned on this early in the morning, no one yet here. The only light came from the small votives on the side wall, flickering red candlelight, tiny, yet it seemed able to illuminate the entire building.

Jane bowed her head and rubbed her eyes. She wasn't sure if she felt tired or not. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as she'd hit the bed in the guest room five hours earlier, surprised that she could sleep at all, but it had not been a peaceful sleep. Half-formed figures haunted her dreams, strange ideas and terrible emotions that kept her tossing in the musty sheets until she'd woken up, restless and desperate for the sunlight. There would be no more sleep for her.

She'd come into the church to wait for morning. It was not a large church, but it was an old one. The dark wood of the pews gleamed faintly, polished by generations of parishioners and saturated with age. It was strangely peaceful, sitting there in the semi-darkness, watching the red lights of the votives. She'd lit one for her family. She didn't know why. She was never a religious person, and she had very little experience with churches. But it felt like the thing to do.

Jane suddenly became aware that she wasn't alone. She didn't need to turn around to know who was there.

"So what, you can teleport now?" she asked, staring ahead.

"As I told you, I've been getting accustomed to this form. It's taken some time for me to appreciate the full extent of my abilities," Castiel said.

Jane turned around in her seat. He was sitting in the pew behind her, looking towards the altar, where the crucifix hung on the wall.

He met her eyes suddenly. "You said before you wanted to fight."

Jane said nothing, her eyes set and determined. He knew her answer.

"It's been decided that you will have the opportunity to help us." He looked down, elbows on knees, his voice low. "I hope you know what you're getting into." He searched her face, and Jane met his gaze and did not look away.

Castiel leaned back and sighed. "Let's walk," he said.

They stood and crossed the aisle, walking down the center of the church, the windows just beginning to glow with the morning.

"You know how the demonic forces plan to free Lucifer."

"The Seals," Jane said.

"Yes. Eliul and his cohorts are looking for one of the Seals here. At this time, we do not believe they know where it is. Unfortunately, neither do we," Castiel said. They stopped at the baptismal font at the back of the church, Castiel looking at her grimly.

"You said there were tons of Seals. Why don't they just go for another one?" she asked.

"This one is of special significance. They'll try to break it if they can, and it will help them greatly if they do. It's of the utmost importance that we prevent that."

"What is the Seal?" Jane asked, one eyebrow quirked up.

Castiel shifted his eyes and tightened his lips. "You don't know?" Jane said, eyebrows rising.

"They hide their plans well. Which is why we must work all the harder to stop them."

"Don't know what it is, don't know where it is, and we have to protect it. Sounds kind of hopeless," she said.

"Nothing is hopeless."

They were silent for a moment, each lost in thought. "Okay, so we don't know what Eliul's going to do, but there's gotta be things I can… learn. I mean, that thing back at the warehouse…." Jane trailed off. It seemed a lifetime ago. "I don't want to be caught like that again."

"There are defenses," Castiel said, nodding.

"Like that choking the black smoke thing?"

"I'm afraid that's somewhat beyond your abilities," Castiel said. Jane cracked a half-smile.

"He's going to try to kill me, right? Before all this is over." If it was ever over.

"Yes. Not for your sake. He'll do it to get to me." Jane stared at him, inquiring. "There is a certain... enmity between us. It goes back a long way," Castiel said finally. He seemed to pause and redirect his thoughts. "I'll tell you what you need to know about combating them. You won't have much time to learn, but… let's pray it's enough."

They left the church just as the sun rose and struck the stained glass windows, fiery light banishing the shadows.

* * *

A/N: Updates are probably going to be less frequent now, because I don't have the rest of the story written. Don't worry—I have it all outlined, I know where I'm going, and I intend to finish this. Thanks for sticking with it.


	9. Conjuration

Disclaimer: _Supernatural_ and Castiel are not my creations, Jane and Abdiel are.

* * *

Conjuration

Jane sat dozing on a futon in the study of the rectory. Her head was supported by her hand, elbow propped up on the arm rest, and every time she started to fall asleep her wrist snapped back, jerking her head down and jolting her awake. Her whole body ached. She was too tired to move into a more comfortable position, her brain too fuzzy from lack of sleep and stress to do more than sit here, trying futilely to get some rest.

Castiel sat hunched at the desk, pouring over some dusty tome, illuminated by a tiny desk light that cast the room in semi-darkness. Maybe angels could see in the dark, Jane considered in her sleep-addled state.

Her wrist snapped down again and Jane, thoroughly annoyed and exhausted, gave it up as a lost cause. She shifted in her seat, sighed heavily, and leaned back her head on the futon. She rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"Something wrong?" Castiel said without looking up from the stacks of books and papers littering the desk. His trench coat and suit jacket lay draped over the back of his chair and his tie was messier than ever. Jane figured she probably looked just as bad.

"No," she said sourly. Dumb question. Everything was wrong. Jane stopped herself there. _Don't think like that. You have a job to do._

She stood up and stretched, trying to get her mind off it, trying to find something to do. Doing was good. Doing meant she was being active, and her family wasn't laying dead somewhere without being avenged. They must have found their bodies by now. Maybe they thought she did it. They would have realized she'd disappeared and they would start to wonder. They must be looking for her. If she turned on the news now, maybe she would see a picture of her face and a cheery newscaster telling the audience that she was wanted for the brutal slaying of her family and police were asking anyone with information to—

"Jane." Castiel was looking at her hard.

Jane met his eye briefly and looked away, feeling her eyes sting. She wondering again if angels could read minds. She decided she didn't want to ask.

_Get a grip on yourself._ She walked over to the desk. Castiel had turned his attention back to his books, eyes scanning the pages faster than Jane ever could. She peered at some of the sheets of paper. They were covered in strange symbols and drawings, disturbing almost, some of them, and characters from languages she didn't even recognize, let alone understand. Castiel, however, seemed to be able to read it all.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"Information about the Seal. Some clue of it…. Much of the information has been lost, although it was written down centuries ago." He caught her eye as she leaned over the desk, and pointed to a drawing in the book. Under his finger was a symbol, a series of encircled triangles, strange squiggles, and letters she recognized as Hebrew. "This is the symbol of the Seal. It may be a sort of… altar, perhaps. The translation, regrettably, is corrupted."

"Fortunate that you have this library to look it up in," Jane said dryly, now shuffling through some of the papers, each one littered with similar scribbles.

"We didn't leave it up to fortune. Abdiel's vessel is a scholarly man. He's devoted his life to tracking down the Seals and cataloguing this information," Castiel said.

Jane raised her eyebrows at this but wisely chose not to comment. Castiel flipped through the book, delicate and deft, barely rustling the yellowed pages. He moved onto another one, reaching across the desk for a similarly aged volume. Jane caught sight of his right arm at that moment, surprised she hadn't noticed before.

"Hey, you took off the bandage."

"There didn't seem to be much point…." Castiel said, a tiny bit sheepishly.

Jane, clearly not satisfied, reached for his arm herself. The wrist button had come undone and she pushed the sleeve up.

"What—it's healed already," she said incredulously. The skin was smooth, quite healed over, as if it was an injury months old instead of days.

"Yes. It's in our natures to heal," Castiel said. Jane ran a finger over the scar, a pale pink jagged line that stood out against the faint tan. Crazy angel superpowers….

The study door opened behind her. Castiel stood up and Jane dropped his arm like it burned her fingers as Abdiel walked into the room. His eyes flickered between them, frowning slightly.

"I've just received intelligence. The demons plan to execute a ritual," he said, still eyeing them curiously.

Castiel moved into action at once. "Where did you obtain this intelligence?" he asked as he pulled on his coat and jacket.

"Higher powers," Abdiel said shortly.

Jane realized this was finally something that could bring her to her enemy. "What kind of ritual is this?" she interjected.

"Nothing we're bound to like," Abdiel said with slight condescension.

"When?" Castiel asked.

"Imminently."

"We'll leave now," Castiel said, turning to Jane. "Hold still."

Before she could worry about what he'd just said, Castiel had lifted his hand and lightly touched two fingers to her forehead—

And the study was gone, replaced instantaneously with a dirty hallway she'd never seen before. Jane took a step back and stumbled, disoriented and blinking in the new, harsh light. "Angel teleportation…not so good on humans," she muttered, rubbing her forehead and looking around her. Castiel gave her an apologetic look.

Abdiel stepped into sight from somewhere behind her, apparently transported in the same way, hands in pockets and nonchalant as usual. They stood on a run-down landing in what appeared to be an apartment building, doors lining the wall in front of them. Abdiel singled out one particular door, '387' written above it in peeling numbers. He seemed to communicate wordlessly with Castiel, nodding towards the door and moving towards it, and gave Jane a stern look that meant either "Be quiet" or "Be good". Jane swallowed hard.

Castiel reached the door first, and it opened silently beneath his touch. He stepped into it, Abdiel closely behind. It was dark inside and Jane, still on the landing, could not see anything except the vague outlines of the angels in the room. Then Castiel turned the light on.

They moved further into the room. It was a small apartment, a single room open to them, unfurnished except for a dingy couch crooked against the wall. The only thing remarkable about the room was the graffiti on the walls. They were covered with signs, twisted, evil shapes spreading over the walls and reaching into the ceiling, black paint dripping down onto the floor and giving everything a sick, melted appearance. Just looking at it made Jane feel unclean. She shivered and felt nauseous—it reminded her of the scene at her family's house, that same aura of…something evil. There was no one left there, no demons, just the signs of their ritual.

"Too late," Abdiel said shortly. There was nothing to add to that.

Castiel examined the walls, touching the surface with a fingertip. The walls were coated with a thin layer of orange-ish grease, bubbled and crackled on the paint. He rubbed it between his fingers distastefully.

The other significant feature of the room was the floor. Directly in the center of the floor was a large burned patch, as if someone had lit a bonfire in the middle of the room. The carpet was scorched black, melted around the edges of the circle. The ceiling above was similarly blackened by the soot of some abnormal fire, twining in strange patterns across the ceiling. The entire room smelled acrid, not just the smell of burned plastic, but something fouler and unnamable.

The three of them stared around the room, awed by the horror in it. Jane didn't need an angel to tell her that what had gone down here was bad. Pure, unadulterated evil. She felt it, and she dug her fingernails into her hands until they stung.

Jane stared at the black paint on the walls. "What is this, some kind of spell?"

"A satanic conjuration," Castiel said, hovering his hand above one of the figures in dripping paint. Jane recognized the symbol. It was the same one from the book Castiel showed her, the symbol for the Seal they were looking for, but drawn twisted and perverted so that it was disquieting.

"Only just too late…." Abdiel said, crouching down by the burn on the carpet. "They must have vacated minutes before."

"So we can get them," Jane said, glancing from Castiel to Abdiel, but neither looked hopeful.

"It doesn't matter now. What's important is the Seal. This conjuration was for locating it, and it appears they were successful." Castiel said, still staring at the figures on the walls. "Now they know where it is." He looked her straight in the eye, and she knew it was bad.

"Well, can't we figure it out too?" Jane said, wondering if there might be some clue left over, something they could interpret….

"Not unless we wish to repeat this scene, and that would require certain sacrifices we are not willing to make," Abdiel said, straightening up.

"So, what?" Jane said, frustrated by their impassivity. "We're just going to give up? They know where the Seal is and we don't. They're just going to go break it!"

"No," Castiel said. "They won't yet. They need something first." He exchanged a dark look with Abdiel.

Jane stepped closer to the pair, trying to keep her voice calm, although her patience was rapidly evaporating. "So? What are we doing?"

"They hold the cards now, so to speak. We wait for their next move," Castiel said. He was using his battle-plan voice now, flat and determined, but the calm detachment he was able to show only exasperated Jane further.

"That's your plan? Sit around and wait?" She struggled to control herself, but she couldn't keep from stepping closer to Castiel, even as she knew it was beyond stupid to try to intimidate an angel. "I'm _tired_ of waiting, Castiel. That..._demon_ is out there, walking free, after he killed my family. I thought you're supposed to...fight, or whatever! You keep talking about this like it's a battle, but then you won't get in on the action!"

Castiel clenched his lips together and seemed to make an effort to keep his voice composed. "We don't know their full plans. They have the information now. I understand it is...difficult for you, Jane, but have patience. The last time I rushed into this, _you_ got involved." Jane took a step back, stung by his remark.

"You're still just letting them get away," she said quietly.

"Their time will come. For now, we worry about the Seal."

"How are we supposed to protect it if we don't even know where it is?"

Abdiel, watching from the sidelines, stepped in front of her now. "It's none of your concern. I appreciate your desire for justice, but the Seal is our business." His curt tone ended the conversation.

Jane exhaled angrily. She met Abdiel's fixed stare for a second, but his sharp brown eyes unnerved her. She didn't want to make an angel angry. Even Castiel, usually so unruffled, was a little scary at the moment, looking at her with a mixture of anger and concern.

Jane backed down, confused and frustrated and wanting to do something, anything. Why weren't the angels formulating a plan of action? She wanted to sink down on the couch, but it was covered in the same revolting orange slime as the walls. The whole room was giving her the creeps, and the angels weren't helping much.

"I'm just gonna…wait outside," she said finally, more upset than angry now and definitely wanting to be by herself for a moment. She didn't bother to get a reply before walking into the hallway.

* * *

Castiel and Abdiel remained in the room. There wasn't much left to observe; it was clear enough that the demons had effectively completed the ritual, and that meant they knew where the Seal was. Castiel couldn't deny that it was looking bad. If only they had gotten their information a few minutes earlier….

"It's pointless now to speculate on what we might have done," Abdiel said, guessing his thoughts. Castiel turned to him, seeing the same dejection that he was sure was on his own face.

"We need to prevent them from acquiring the… last component for breaking the Seal," Castiel said. "If we do that, they may still be thwarted." Despite his words, he did not look like he had much hope in the plan.

Abdiel said nothing.

"We must stop this Seal from being broken, Abdiel. Are you with me on this?"

"I want to preserve the Seal as much as you do," Abdiel replied.

Castiel paced the room, lost in thought. "Are there more of our kind near here?" he asked.

"None that I know of."

"Nor I. That will make our job easier, but on the other hand… it would be good to have reinforcements." He stopped in the middle of the room, at the very edge of the blistered circle. He looked down at it, seemingly unwilling to cross it. "We know what they will attempt. They cannot perform the ritual without it. There is time yet to stop them."

He turned to Abdiel, standing there awaiting orders, and looked at him gravely. "For our own sakes, and all the world's, I pray we will." The oppressiveness of the room seemed to weigh down on them, like shackles around their necks.

"We've been here long enough," Castiel said finally. Abdiel nodded and they left the room, restoring its vile contents to darkness.

Jane sat on the floor in the hallway, back against the wall and appearing to be dozing. Castiel was surprised that she could sleep in this place, at this time, but he was himself already getting accustomed to the strange dictates the human body laid out for getting rest. She stirred when they walked up.

"We getting out of here?" she said, smiling mirthlessly up at them. Still angry, apparently.

"Yes," Castiel said as she stood. Abdiel at his side, he reached out his hand. She was white-hot under his fingertips, and in an instant, the hallway was empty.


	10. Bitter Pill

Disclaimer: I don't own _Supernatural, _and I'm not making any money off this.

* * *

Bitter Pill

The thumping was beginning to annoy Castiel badly. Now it wasn't just in his head—Jane bounded down the stairs, sneakers hitting wood with an intolerable clamor at each step. The noise felt like shockwaves through his skull, punching the blood out to hammer directly between his eyes. Castiel rubbed the bridge of his nose futilely, a gesture he had often seen humans perform but was just beginning to appreciate himself.

Jane walking into the study, footsteps mercifully muffled by the tattered carpet. She had a book clutched under one arm. Castiel recognized it. It was one that had been written by Abdiel's vessel, a book on the demonic. An interesting read, not that there was anything in it Castiel didn't already know.

Castiel remained seated on the sofa as Jane replaced the book on the study desk. He bent his head and rubbed between his eyes again. Did humans feel like this all the time? He didn't know how they could function, being so fragile and temperamental.

Jane sat herself in the chair at the desk, swiveling around so she could read the titles on the shelf behind her. She picked one and swiveled back, now looking through the loose papers covering the desk, untidy from Castiel's previous perusal. She examined them intently, seemingly quite oblivious to the angel in the room. She had been running through these books all afternoon, devouring information.

"Are you okay?" she said suddenly, looking up from the desk at Castiel, who was looking rather pathetic on the sofa with his head in his hands.

"I'm fine," he said, although he certainly didn't sound very cheerful as he said it. "It's just this…." He gestured at his aching cranium, uncertain how to describe it.

"You have a headache?" Jane asked. Why did she always have to sound so amused? Was it really any wonder that he was unaccustomed to human sensations? Castiel decided it was a rhetorical question and sat glowering.

"Hold on a sec," Jane said, and she dashed from the room into the hallway. More thumping, this time from somewhere above his head. Wonderful.

She appeared a minute later with a glass of water and a small white capsule. Castiel looked from it to her impatient face. He stared at the capsule curiously.

Jane sighed and rolled her eyes, an expression Castiel was getting used to seeing. "Aspirin," she said, handing it and the glass to him.

Ah, yes. He has also seen humans use this. They swallowed the pill and the pain went away. What a curious invention.

Castiel had a small amount of trouble figuring out how to swallow the pill without choking on it. He eventually managed it, although it left a bitter taste in his mouth. A human expression came to his mind: A bitter pill to swallow. Yes, that made sense now too.

Jane had already returned to the desk, flopping down on the worn leather chair. Castiel's headache did not feel any better, but he supposed these things took some time to work. He decided it would be a good idea to do something to take his mind of it in the meantime, so he walked over to the desk to inquire after Jane's research.

"Anything interesting?" he asked, standing opposite Jane, who was engrossed in some rather morbid reproductions of woodcuts showing demonic activity.

"Yeah. Some of it's kinda…over my head," she said with a grim smile. She glanced up at Castiel, who gave her an encouraging look, so she pressed on.

"The, uh, whole Seals thing…." She rubbed her temples. "We still don't know where it is. If we had it, or could get to it, we could keep the demons from breaking it. Right?" She looked to him for confirmation.

"I told you before—"

"I know, I know, they can't break it yet. For some mysterious reason or whatever. But shouldn't we be looking for it? There's all this information here—" she waved a hand around the stacks of papers "—and, well, what if we can find it?"

"It's safe for the time being. There is nothing of use in this location besides what I've already told you," Castiel said, keeping his exasperation in check. At least his headache was finally subsiding.

"What does Abdiel think about all this?" Jane asked softly, watching him intently.

"Abdiel is under my command," Castiel said, more sharply than he meant to. Immediately he reined in his anger. He turned to Jane apologetically.

Jane looked embarrassed. "He just seems kinda…."

"More capable?" He could not keep a trace of unpleasantness from his voice. He was silent for a long time, the tension in the room growing as he stared at the wall, not seeing it. Leaning against the desk, back to Jane, he finally spoke.

"Abdiel was once one of the highest of the Heavenly forces. But when… _Lucifer_—" he said the name with distaste "— began his rebellion, Abdiel joined him." He paused, thoughts and ancient memories dancing through his head, collected since before time began. "He would not fall completely, however. When he learned what Lucifer planned…the wholesale rejection of God…he left them. Still, the pride that corrupted those who fell…Abdiel still has a trace of it. A certain rebellious streak that has gotten him into trouble since then. Pride has a stronger grip on him than it should." He looked to Jane to gauge her reaction.

"But he's a good guy, right?"

"He has reformed his ways, so to speak. But it takes a long time to get back into Heaven's good graces."

Jane looked down at the desk top, pondering. "I guess that means he's stronger than you." She looked up suddenly, a trace of a smile on her lips. " Maybe they should have given _him_ this mission, _Castiel_. Heaven knows you haven't done a very good job of it."

He stared, dawning horror in his eyes. No, not this….

"Who are you?" he asked, facing down the girl in front of him.

Jane smiled, the shape twisted on her mouth, distorted and cruel. Her eyes were black, bare, soulless, reflecting the room and the thundering angel.

"You shouldn't have left her alone—" she paused, as if thinking "—what is it she calls you? Angel-boy?" She laughed, the sound cold and punctured. "It was just too easy, Jane sitting there so angry and unprotected…. I could just slip in…."

Castiel rounded the desk, closing the distance between them, ready for battle, terrible anger in every step, but the demon in Jane's body did not flinch. "You can't hurt me, Castiel. She's still in here." It tapped Jane's chest with a finger, smiling that wicked smile that made anger course through Castiel's body, the physical reaction to this evil that he was just getting used to.

He moved forward anyway, not wavering as he advanced upon her, hating what he was about to do. The demon took a step back, still with the cruel smile, but Castiel was there too quickly. He reached his palm out to her forehead and she dropped immediately, unconscious, body thumping to the floor. He stared down at her, horror in his face. Every instinct told him to recoil, to rebuke this monstrosity. God help him, he knew this was his fault too.

* * *

"You know what you must do," Abdiel said. He stood against the wall, motionless as a statue, watching Castiel stand before Jane. The girl was tied to a chair, wrists secured against the wooden arms, small defense against the strength of those possessed, and unnecessary in Abdiel's opinion. This could have been ended already.

"I can't. It will kill her," Castiel said. She was unconscious now, but he felt the evil force inside her. He had the power to cast it out. It would be easy….this was a lower demon, weak and insignificant next to him. He pictured the bright light, flaring up and burning out the evil spirit, but it would destroy that fragile human body until it was so broken her soul couldn't live there anymore….They died too often, the power too much, too pure, too terrible.

"She has been compromised. The entire mission has been compromised," Abdiel said.

His fault. Abdiel was right. Castiel could say nothing.

"So you'll sacrifice everything we are working for? Too much has been risked already. We've had the enemy here in our midst for hours, learning our plans, sneaking into our minds….Send it back to Hell." Abdiel's tone grew more heated until Castiel sent him an admonitory look to remind him of his place.

"No. There is another way. Humans perform exorcisms. It may work in their way," he said.

Abdiel scoffed quietly. "Humans? You are better than that, Castiel."

Castiel stepped up to the unconscious girl, tied to a chair, loathe thought he was to come closer to this vessel of evil. He touched a finger to her forehead, as before white-hot. Her head lifted, eyes rolling up and into place. They were Jane's usual brown, but Castiel could see the demon lurking behind them.

"Tell me your name, demon," he said darkly, not disguising the power and menace in his voice.

The demon smiled, twisting Jane's face into an ugly sneer. "Jane."

"Do you know who you are in the presence of? We are angels of the Lord. We have the power to cast you into Hell and bind you there for the next millennia." He moved closer, face close to hers as blue eyes drilled into eyes now black. "Who sent you?"

There was fear in its eyes, Castiel noted. The thing in Jane's body nudged away from him, cowering as far back as the binding would allow it, but it still managed to summon enough vitriol to sneer back at him. "I don't answer to God's _vassals_."

Castiel did not let the gaze go. "Where is he?" he said in the deadly calm voice of one holding the power.

"Scared to say his name? You always were a coward, Castiel. Even back in the old days. Never willing to do what needs to be done. You care for these humans too much. You're weak, and that's why you'll fail," the demon said. Even her voice was twisted by its words.

Castiel stepped back, straight faced, and turned away. He tried to collect himself, summoning his strength and praying he would succeed. He turned back. "Strange loyalty you show. Eliul sent you here knowing you would be cast back, willing to sacrifice even his own followers. Are you willing to spend the next thousand years writhing for you master's sake?"

"We all make sacrifices, _Castiel_. Sacrifices we have to make for the greater…_evil_. I'll get my reward. You won't be able to chain me long when Lucifer walks the earth."

"It's over for you. Leave this body," Castiel said, feeling his anger beginning to rise, spreading through his soul.

"But it's so much _fun_ here. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a long, long, time. This human? Oh, if you could see the things in her head…." The demon chuckled as if at a private joke.

Castiel would take no more. He advanced on the demon and pressed his palm to Jane's forehead and let the power flow through him. The demon screamed ferociously, the high-pitched sound of madness in Jane's stolen voice, her eyes glazing over with black ink. Castiel did not let it go on for long, however. It was only a taste of his power. The demon sat trembling in the chair when he stopped, clenching Jane's hands over and over. He stepped back, serious and composed, and glanced at Abdiel, who still stood silent against the wall, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"Don't think you'll escape. We're waiting for you," the demon said quietly, all the more menacing by the soft lilting to used in Jane's voice. It looked at Castiel with black eyes, hate radiating from it.

He looked over, finally getting some response. "Where are your cohorts?" he asked.

The demon smiled and looked at the ceiling, feigning nonchalance. "We have it now. How long do you think it will take us to break it?"

"We will devastate you," Castiel said. He had never meant anything more in his existence.

"_You_ can't even get your hands on the Seal. A poor protector you turned out to be. What will your god say when he finds out you've failed?" it said with derision.

Castiel moved in again, placed his hand on her forehead and let loose. The demon screamed, louder and louder, the sound ripping at Jane's throat as her back arched in the chair. Castiel held on longer this time, but not long enough for the black eyes to fill with the burning light.

"Where is it?" he said finally.

The demon panted, shuddering from the pain. "He'll hurt me!"

"You're going to Hell anyway," Castiel said. He intensified his stare.

"The cathedral in Hartville. That's where they are…they're waiting…." it said in a strained voice, twitching in the chair.

Abdiel stepped forward. "It could be lying." He looked at the demon with distaste.

Castiel shot him a look. "I know. But what choice do we have?"

"No choice," the demon said. It was recovering slightly, panting from the last bout, but strong enough to look at them with terrible hatred as it strained at its bonds. "You're just mindless drones, slaves to your dead god. You talk about free will, but it's all a lie, worse than anything we ever cooked up. _We_ might be damned, but at least we're free, free from your tyrant god. He's got you angels jumping at his beck and call, so eager to give up all the power you have, bowing down in worship to that raging psychopath—"

Castiel spun around, retribution in his soul, anger in his steps as he gripped the demon in his hand and laid his palm on Jane's forehead one last time. This was to be the end.

"I'm sorry Jane," he said, and he let loose the full power of his angelic being. The black eyes disappeared, engulfed in white, blinding light, and the scream of fear, rage, and despair from Jane's lips was terrible. The light shot through her open mouth, scorching out the black smoke that tried to escape, razing through her stolen body. Castiel did not stop.

"Castiel. It's gone." Abdiel laid a hand on his comrade's shoulder. Castiel looked at him and the righteous rage disappeared from his eyes. Jane slumped over in the chair.

Castiel stepped back, eyes wide with horror at what he had done, overcome with shame. He had promised….

Abdiel picked up Jane's chin, lying on her chest, and turned her head side to side. "She's still alive," he said with a glance to his commander. He brushed two fingers against her brow.

Jane did not move for a moment. Then she stirred and drew in a shuddering breath, trying to lift her head up but only half-managing.

"Hey, angel-boy," she said with a weak smile, but this time it was genuine.

* * *

A/N: Hot off the press. This chapter almost killed me to write.


	11. Snares of the Devil

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

Snares of the Devil

Jane's wrists hurt. They were worn red and raw and were turning faintly purple in some spots, the beginnings of bruises forming. She rubbed them again even though it didn't make them feel any better. She had come to the church and was alone there now, strangely comforted by dusty and forgotten building, anxious to be alone with her thoughts after everything that had happened. Castiel and Abdiel were God knew where—wait, that was probably sacrilegious. She roughly pulled her sleeve down to cover the bruises, done with everything, and turned around to come face to face with Castiel.

He looked down at her covered wrists, not saying anything.

Jane sighed, exasperated and dead tired. "Don't do that face at me, Castiel. It wasn't your fault." He gave her the same sad stare. "Okay, maybe it was a little. But I'm not dead yet and there's no point in angsting over getting me possessed by a demon. Okay?" she said a little testily. Angels seemed to have trouble with the concept of alone time.

She didn't wait for a response, but walked over to a stained glass window, brilliantly lit by the setting sun. It depicted St. Michael, clad in armor and with a great flaming sword in his hand, wings spread fiercely over the crushed figure of the devil. If only. She was more shaken up than she was going to admit. Most of it she didn't remember…for now. She pushed it aside, deciding to deal with it later, although she promised herself that when this was all over she was going to take a ten-hour long shower. She still felt dirty and used.

She turned from the window abruptly, arms hugging her chest. "I assume we're still going after them?"

Castiel nodded. "Unfortunate though this…event was, it did offer us an unexpected advantage. The demon told us where they have the Seal."

"The altar?"

"That's speculation. But we now have the best lead we've had concerning its location." He leaned against the back of a pew. "Of course, the demon may well be lying. They are…adept at that."

Jane allowed this information to sink in. The demons would be there. They had a chance at saving the Seal. Somehow, the thought of saving the world didn't quite match the anticipation she felt at coming face to face with the demon who had killed her family.

"But we're still going there," she said. It wasn't a question. They both knew the answer.

Castiel walked up to her now. "I think you should…sit this one out, Jane. Abdiel and I can handle this. This is not work for humans."

No way was Jane going to fall for that soul-searching angel-eyes thing. "Are you insane? I'm not staying here. I told you….I'm going to avenge my family. Besides, I saved your skin once before, angel-boy." Sort of.

Castiel looked dark, but Jane didn't back down. Finally, he shook his head and turned away, clearly not happy with it, but accepting it nonetheless. "All right," he said with his back turned. "You may be safer with us, at any rate." He paused, thinking for a moment. "There is, at least, something you should see first."

He led the way to a small door hidden in the recesses of the church, almost unnoticeable against the wood paneling. He turned the tarnished doorknob and it opened under his touch, silent on well-oiled hinges. Ducking his head, he disappeared into the dark patch beyond. Jane followed, almost having to crouch down to enter the low doorway.

Inside it was dark. Jane fumbled at the wall for a light switch and found an old-fashioned lever. She flipped it and the room was lit with yellowish fluorescent light, humming gently above her. It appeared to be a basement, and one that looked a lot like it had been built by hand, pieced together over the years and stocked equally painstakingly. A short flight of stairs descended downward. Castiel was already half-way down and he looked up, as if asking if she was coming.

Jane gripped the banister and walked down, looking around the basement. It seemed "basement" might not be the best term to describe it, however. Armory might be more accurate. The cinderblock walls were lined with mismatched shelves and cupboards, tables strewn about and several racks hanging from the ceiling. They were all lined with weapons, ancient and modern, mainly bladed instruments but more than a few lethal-looking firearms. The spaces in-between were taken up by all sorts of strange objects she couldn't begin to identify, but they all looked of sinister purpose.

"And he keeps it in the church basement," Jane said, eyeing a rusty scythe hanging from the ceiling.

Castiel gave her a look that might have been ironic, although Jane wasn't entirely sure angels could get irony. "This is mostly for your benefit. You will have little protection against the demons." He stood in the middle of the room as Jane walked around, examining the weapons. She picked up a blunt instrument, like a mace, blackened with age.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, turning towards him seriously.

Castiel looked grim as he moved to a corner and located a small dagger, comparatively innocent looking surrounded by its peers. He handed it to her wordlessly.

It was barely the length of her hand, handle included. The blade was clean and shiny, almost new looking, although the wooden handle was worn and darkened from years of use. Someone had gotten a lot of service out of it. Crude symbols had been scratched into the surface of the blade, some almost worn away, but present nonetheless.

"Anti-demonic inscriptions?" she asked.

"You've been studying," Castiel said. Jane decided to take that as a compliment. "The blade will cut into demon-flesh, but it won't kill. You may be able to do some harm, if it comes down to it."

"Better prepare for the worst," Jane said. She tucked the naked blade into her belt, secure against her hip. She turned her attention to a collection of firearms on a table near her, mostly modern looking. "What do these do?"

"Normal pistols, but the bullets are blessed."

Jane smiled to herself as she picked one up. It was cold and heavier than she expected. "I guess it pays to have a priest stocking your arsenal."

Castiel did not seem to appreciate her joke. "Do you know how to use that?" he asked, frowning slightly, although that was nothing new.

"Point it at the other guy and pull the trigger," she replied. She could almost feel Castiel repressing an eye roll.

"You shouldn't use that unless you have no other choice, Jane. There are innocent souls inside those bodies, held hostage by the demons possessing them. They don't deserve to die."

"You don't have to remind me, Castiel," Jane said with only a slight edge to her voice, but she put the pistol back on the table. "Guess I'm sticking with holy water for now." She turned to face him, looking wistful against her better judgment. "It wouldn't kill them anyway, right?"

"Not now. But when the demon left the body, the injury would remain."

Jane picked up a vial of holy water and stuffed it into her back pocket. She also took a pouch of rock salt, the properties of which Castiel had already explained to her, although she had no idea what she was going to do with it. If the Seal was there….Well, they would worry about protecting it then. She ran her thumb over the edge of the knife in her belt, feeling the cold metal and imagining actually stabbing someone with it, the sensation of steel slicing through flesh, blood dripping down like it had on her mother's throat….

Castiel was staring at her. He always seemed to know when she was having morbid thoughts.

Jane cleared her throat to break the silence. Castiel seemed to understand and motioned towards the stairs, their purpose here fulfilled. Jane followed with one last look at the demon-hunting sanctuary, but Castiel stopped at the foot of the stairs. He met her eyes gravely.

"Eliul will pay for what he did to your family. Whatever happens, I'll see to that."

It was strange to see Castiel, normally so cool and focused, look with compassionate eyes, keen to comfort and console. Underneath it there was a hard edge to his voice that reminded Jane of what he could do, what his kind was capable of, and what it meant for him to give his promise. Her eyes prickled again and she turned away from his sad gaze that said he felt her pain. She rubbed at her eyes, not letting the tears fall.

"I believe you, Castiel," she said, and she meant it.

* * *

The sun had already set outside the cathedral and the sky was fading, the shadowy shapes of the treetops and the vaulted roof of the cathedral silhouetted against a blue and yellow sky that was rapidly darkening. Swatches of shadow settled over the ground and obscured the side of the stone cathedral, imposing in the twilight in its grandeur and age. Castiel, Jane, and Abdiel stepped out of the shadows of the old building and walked into the light of the front steps.

Jane touched the knife at her belt. Her heart was thumping in her chest, but she felt very clear headed. She looked up at the cathedral, more than a hundred years old at least, and then at the solid wooden doors, feeling the anticipation and dread for what was inside.

Castiel observed the doors himself, then turned to the other two. "You know what to do," he said.

Jane nodded. Abdiel merely looked back seriously, as usual. Jane pulled the knife from her belt as Castiel mounted the stone steps and pulled open the doors.

The hinges whined softly, groaning with the weight of the heavy double doors. Castiel stepped inside, followed by Jane, with Abdiel taking up the rear. Every nerve in her body was tensed for attack, ears sharp for sounds of someone approaching and eyes alert for movement. The cathedral was almost dark, lit by only a few recessed lights along the side walls and a few votives placed near the front. As her eyes adjusted to the light she could see their surroundings more clearly. It looked bigger on the inside, towering ceiling somewhere above supported by great stone pillars. Rows of empty pews took up most of the floor space, looking bare against the polished stone floor. The cathedral appeared to be empty.

Castiel walked down the center aisle. Straight and steady, he moved with quiet, determined steps to the front of the cathedral, focused on one thing. The altar. It was shrouded in the shadows of the sacristy, illuminated by a single red candle. His concentration intensified as he approached.

Jane walked several paces behind, still looking out for any sign of demons. Castiel did not seem worried, but then again, he was devoting his attention to the altar. Jane checked each pew, expecting demons to be lurking behind each one, but there was nothing. The cathedral was still and silent, the only sound Castiel's footsteps on the stone floor.

He reached the end. The front of the church was raised on a low platform, the altar sitting on the middle of it. He climbed two steps of cut stone and he was before it. Jane stopped in her tracks, watching his turned back as he lifted his palms to the dull wood of the altar, slowly and deliberately.

Castiel stood for a moment, motionless, hands on the altar. The air seemed to grow cold. Jane was not thinking about demons anymore—every attention in the room was focused on the man standing before the altar in an ancient and magnificent cathedral. Castiel's eyes were closed, head slightly bowed, reaching into something greater than himself. He opened his eyes.

"This is not the Seal," he said without turned around. His tone was chilling. He turned suddenly and Jane started, but his eyes went directly to Abdiel, who was standing there behind her, face expressionless, eyes hard. "It's not here. It was never here," Castiel said, dawning realization manifesting in his expression as he locked eyes with Abdiel. The unvoiced question hung in the air.

"No, it wasn't. I'm truly sorry Castiel, but I have my own orders. It seems you are to finish this mission alone," Abdiel said. Castiel looked back at his comrade, the betrayal keen in his stare, and Abdiel shifted his gaze. There was a soft rush of wind and Abdiel was gone, evaporated before their eyes.

* * *

Castiel sat in the dark with his head bowed. The weight of this day seemed to come down and buckled his back, all the burden upon these frail mortal shoulders. He stared into the dark, lost somewhere else.

Jane paced up and down the thin patch of grass between the cement curbs, her shoes making squishing sounds in the muddy lawn, illuminated by the dull streetlight above the building across the street. She walked back and forth in front of Castiel, muttering to herself and occasionally speaking aloud.

"Okay, okay, the demons know where it is, or they have it, and we…don't have it, and that's bad….Gonna try to break it, breaking Seals is bad….But they can't break it yet. That's good. So if we can just _find_ it….But Abdiel's gone….We're pretty much screwed," she concluded matter-of-factly. She stopped in mid-pace, arms folded over her chest, and turned to her companion for his thoughts.

"Castiel? Are you…okay?" she asked hesitantly. He did not respond, so she stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the touch, startled out of his reverie.

He certainly didn't look "okay". There was a terrible look in his eyes, sorrow so strong she took a step back. Never had she seen such pain so clearly manifested in a person. She sat down beside him and waited for him to speak.

H took a moment, seeming to struggle with the words. "I don't understand why my Father is doing this to me." He did not look at her and spoke so quietly Jane wondered if he was speaking to himself. "Am I being…tested? Haven't I proven myself a hundred times over?" He looked down at the soggy grass.

"I have never known this isolation. Separated from my fellows…without guidance or counsel….I feel like my Father has abandoned me." He scanned the darkened buildings, searching for something he wouldn't find here.

He looked so lonely sitting there. Jane couldn't believe she was really doing this, but she took a breath and spoke.

"Look, Castiel, I don't know how God works. And I don't know why we've been left to do this on our own. But I _do_ know that we have a job to do. We're _not_ gonna let this Seal be broken." Castiel turned to her, met her with piercing blue eyes that looked lost. "You told me before that nothing's hopeless. We can stop them. Maybe that's why God's doing this to you."

They were silent a long moment, sitting hunched over, knowing what was to come. The grim determination solidified behind Castiel's eyes and Jane gave him a solemn smile in return.

Castiel looked up suddenly. Jane turned to follow his gaze, a horrible sinking feeling in her gut. A half dozen figures, lurking silently, stepped out of the shadows.

* * *

A/N: This one took rather longer than usual. My apologies. The next couple chapters are shorter and should be up sooner.


	12. Defend Us in Battle

Defend Us in Battle

The half a dozen figures were almost hidden in the dark, staying in the shadowy region outside the circle of light cast by the streetlight. Castiel stood, watching the figures hover in the dim light. Jane followed his example, trying not to show fear. She fumbled for the knife at her belt. It felt flimsy and insignificant in her hand, but she clutched it and prepared her muscles to strike.

"Jane. Get out of here," Castiel said quietly, not taking his eyes off the figures.

"What? I'm not leaving you here!" Jane hissed back. She could see his point, however. Six demons, maybe more. They had an angel and an untrained girl with a knife. She could probably get away, if they didn't follow her. Maybe.

Castiel shot her a look out the corner of his eye, but he seemed to realize there was no point—or time—to argue. One of the demons stepped into the yellow glare of the streetlight.

The demon had taken the body of a young woman with pretty blond hair. It made Jane sick to think of the girl trapped inside there, screaming silently and powerless in her own body. The demon's black eyes darted from Castiel to Jane, sizing them up or just marveling at their poor odds, Jane couldn't tell. She guessed this demon was their leader, as the others seemed content to shrink in the shadows, waiting their signal.

"It never ceases to amaze me how stupid the good guys are," the blond demon said, locking eyes with Castiel. Her tone was even, but there was a bitter undercurrent of hate and fear as she addressed Castiel. He met her gaze, not backing down. "You should know better than to trust a demon's word. But you still came. It's nice to know we can always count on you."

Muffled chuckles came from the ranks of demons lurking on the outskirts. They were getting restless, inching closer to their prey. Still they were afraid to come too close, but they were ready for the word.

Castiel did not respond to the demon's taunts. A bleak determination had set in over his face. He stepped slightly in front of Jane, shielding her from the blond demon's view.

The demon scoffed at him, derision clear in her expression. She took a step closer, a thin smile that was both leer and snarl curling her lip.

"What, no witty banter? No professions of power? Don't you have any insults for your murderers? Or is it that you already know you're _defeated_?" she said, hissing at the word.

She grew angry at Castiel's continued silence, glowering with impatient fury as he merely stood her down, like a carven image. The demon threw her head back in a profoundly scornful gesture. The other demons watched, some now close enough to make out features. They looked like ordinary people, except for the black, empty eyes.

Jane didn't see the blond demon give any signal. She didn't even move, locked in some mental showdown with Castiel that was beyond Jane's understanding, but at that moment the demons struck. Two of them darted forward, clearly coming towards Jane. She felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she clasped the knife, feeble though it felt, and drew in a hard, shaky breath. These two were the youngest in the group, a man and a woman—or at least in their bodies—and they didn't look in the least concerned at attacking Jane. They darted in from the side, away from Castiel, still locked with the blond demon. But not for long. Three demons moved in towards Castiel, flanking their leader for a moment before stepping in front of her. Castiel watched them, waiting just a moment for their move, preparing for battle. The blond demon surveyed the scene with cool nonchalance.

One of the demons—a big, middle-aged man, strong looking—broke the line suddenly. He jumped out at Castiel, who was almost caught unawares. Castiel took a quick step back and dodged the big demon's blow, twisting away from him and hunching down. He maneuvered quickly behind the demon and delivered a blow to his neck. It sent the demon staggering, but Castiel did not wait for it to recover. He hit it again with the heel of his hand, hard and vicious, and the demon went down. In a second Castiel was crouched on the ground beside it, palm to the demon's forehead. Before the other demons could act the white light was shooting from the demon's once black eyes, and it did not even have time to scream. One down.

The other two were there an instant later, a young dark-haired man and an older man going gray. They attacked at Castiel's crouched form, aiming kicks and blows that Castiel could not completely escape. It was a wild tussle of fists and teeth, so chaotic that only pure instinct was of any use. Castiel threw them off and staggered away from their grasp, eyes dark. They watched each other for a moment in silence.

Jane could only catch a few glimpses of them. She had her own problems at the moment. The two demons who had gone after her jumped in brutally, leaving no time for debate about what to do. The female one got to her first, a cruel smile highlighted by the harsh streetlight. Jane didn't think. Fueled by hot adrenaline she rushed in, taking the demon momentarily by surprise. She dodged the demon's grip, knocking a super-humanly powerful fist away, and barely realizing what she was doing, plunged the spelled knife into the demon woman. She got her right in the gut. It was a sick feeling as she pulled the knife out.

The demon looked stunned for a moment as she looked down at her bleeding abdomen, but pain barely registered on her face. If anything, she only looked angrier. Jane stopped in her tracks. What did she expect? Castiel had told her the knife couldn't kill. All she had done was stab an innocent girl's body and made the demon wearing her a lot more annoyed.

Jane didn't know how the hell she as planning to get out of this alive, but the blood was dripping down her hand and she figured she was already in this, so she might as well make it count. Castiel was engaged in his own battle with two more demons now, one lying dead—she hoped—on the ground. He was laying down blows on the two and getting more than a few himself. It was a sight to see, three ancient immortals beating each other to a pulp. Jane spun around and saw the other demon behind her, a young guy with a buzz cut. She didn't pause but slashed the knife at the closest thing she could find—which turned out to be his face. A red line cut across his cheek and nose. Jane knew it had gone deep, and she knew it wouldn't stop him.

She ran. Castiel was looking like he was on the loosing end and Jane didn't know what she could do, but it felt right that they stick together.

The older demon hit Castiel in the jaw, a blow hard enough to fell an ordinary human. Castiel staggered and pushed back, his eyes hot and avenging. He got the demon in his grip, prepared for the exorcism that would send it back to Hell—

The other demon shot behind Castiel and kicked him behind the knee. Castiel fell to his knees, prone before two demons. The younger one grabbed his throat, fingers white as he pressed in and smiled hideously. And then Jane was there and she rushed at the demon who was choking the life out of the angel. The knife was in her hand, raised and ready to strike. From behind him she brought it down, aiming for the demon's chest. He turned his head suddenly, an instant before she brought the knife home, and raised his arm to block to blow.

It was too late. Jane couldn't stop the strike, even though she knew she had this one chance. She missed her target and the blade sunk into the young demon's forearm, nothing more than a distraction. The demon hissed at her in pain and fury, but his face twisted into a smile as he clutched the knife in his hand, the blade sinking into his fingers until Jane felt it hitting bone. He still did not let go but pulled it from Jane's grasp, who let go, horrified. He slung his arm back and hit her in the temple, hard. Jane staggered, but the demon let Castiel go. He sucked in breath to his starving lungs, but there was no time. The demon with the buzz cut struck out at him and Castiel was forced to engage him, swapping blows with intensity. But he was weakening. There were too many of them, too few on his side. The woman and the graying demon were there, beating him at every turn, too strong….

Jane had few seconds to act. She remembered the vial of holy water in her back pocket, praying this was the right time to use it. She fumbled with the cap for a moment before coming to her senses. Still dizzy from the hit to her head but not caring, not thinking, she smashed the bottle on the closest demon available. It was buzz-cut, blood dripping down his face from the knife wound she'd inflicted earlier, now howling and rubbing frantically at his skin as the blessed water seeped in to do its damage. Jane grinned, the broken bottle-neck in her hand.

It was the relief Castiel needed. In an instant he had the screaming demon under his hand, blue eyes blazing until the demon was shot with light and crumpled to the ground. He knew he was dead. He dodged a swipe from the female demon and shot Jane a look, a look of gratitude and solidarity.

Short lived. The dark-haired demon who'd had Castiel by the throat stepped in front of her, blocking her from Castiel and cutting off aid. He smirked, and then Jane felt like she'd been hit by a bus. A gust of something solid and intangible struck her so hard the wind was knocked out of her. The next thing she knew she was pinned against something hard and rough, like an impaled butterfly stuck for display. The dark-haired demon had his hand out and that cruel smirk on his face, and Jane realized he was pinning her against a tree trunk with just that hand stretched out in midair. She also realized she could absolutely not get free.

It was looking bad. Castiel was visibly weakening, each lunge slower, every blow coming with less force, and the two remaining demons fighting him were showing no mercy. Still the blond demon looked on, content to let the lower orders do the dirty work while she had fun watching. The black haired woman punched Castiel viciously in the side and he looked like he would fall, back arched in pain. Jane tore her eyes away from him as she saw the dark-haired demon approach her. He had death in his eyes.

"So you're the girl the angels rescued," he said softly, very close to her now, staring at her with curiosity. Jane could barely move her head and hands—the rest of her was stuck fast. The spelled knife lay useless on the ground. She'd dropped the broken bottle somewhere, not that it would do her much good anyway. The demon leaned in close, sniffing out her essence, it seemed. Jane shrunk away from him as far as she could. "I wonder what they see in you," he said with a smile.

Castiel hit the older demon hard in the head, the sick wet sound clearly audible, but the female demon launched right on him and he staggered like a drunk, already breaking. He could see Jane there, trapped against the tree, but he could not get to her. They were all around, never relenting. He summoned up the words for an exorcism, but all he heard was laughter. The blond demon, their leader, had stepped in, ready to get in on the action now that she saw their prey fading. He twisted around and tried to make contact with one of the demons, but instead he felt their hands grip him and land brutal blows. Castiel felt his vessel's arm break; it hung limp and useless at his side. He was bleeding inside, he could feel it, could taste the blood pooling in his mouth. The blond demon was in front of him and another one was holding him still, sapping his strength and power. She smiled dazzlingly. Ah, this one he knew.

It was too late for him. He knew that. Help wasn't coming. He was foolish and he was paying for that. And he was alone. That hurt more than anything, the knowledge that he was abandoned, that God was watching him but would not step in. It was too late.

But maybe not for Jane.

Castiel called up the last of his strength. He was an Angel of the Lord. He had fought these kind before, and he did not despair at their hands. In one quick motion he threw off the hands holding him and struck the demon's face, feeling the cartilage in his enemy's nose shatter. He pulled free and felt something in his own body break, pain shooting through his arm and shoulder. He was blazing and he cut through the vile creatures, spurred on by adrenaline in this body he was not used to and his own fiery will and power that he knew very well.

The dark-haired demon turned from Jane, as if he knew what was approaching. There was no fear on his face, only dry hate. He stabbed his arm out, each now spread in opposite directions, one at Jane, and one at Castiel. Castiel stopped in mid-charge, horribly pinioned to thin air. The demon had his hand clenched like it was wrapped around Castiel's throat, even though they were separated by at least fifteen feet. Castiel's eyes were wide and pained, his breath coming in choked gasps. He locked eyes with Jane.

"I'm _busy_ here, Norah. Keep this one contained," the demon said. The blond haired demon smirked back sardonically and hit Castiel over the head. He fell to his knees for the second time, and the demons converged on him.

The demon turned back to Jane. "You know, I've heard about you. I heard what Eliul did to your family. You want to know how it went down that night?" He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered into her ear. "They _begged_ for their lives. They would have done _anything_. I heard Eliul got your sister to bargain for her life. She promised that they could kill her son if they would just let her live." He smiled at the look on Jane's face. "Then he killed her anyway."

"You—you—" Jane said impotently, hatred shaking her voice, but there was nothing she could say that would hurt him. He was going to win. She was going to die, and they already were dead, and the demons were going to win. And a tiny part of her soul asked if maybe what he said was true.

He smiled at her impotent rage, true joy lighting up his face. The graying demon and the black haired woman savaged Castiel in the background, kicking and attacking his prone form just inside the circle of light cast by the streetlight. He did not move. The blond demon—Norah, he'd called her—was crouched by his motionless body, muttering something dark and terrible. Jane lifted her tear-filled eyes from the scene and looked at the black eyes of the demon in the shape of a young man. There was no trace of mercy in the black.

"You know, I'm a little annoyed about this," he said casually, flexing his sliced and bleeding fingers in front of her face. "I think maybe I should let you know what this feels like."

Norah stood over Castiel, looking down at his fractured body with a soft smile. The black haired demon gave him one last kick, but Castiel did not recoil from it. Jane didn't know if he was unconscious or dead. Didn't matter, really. They would both be dead soon.

"Iranax. We're leaving," the blond demon called.

"I'm having _fun_ with this one," he called over his shoulder, eyes not leaving Jane's face.

"Fine, just kill her. We have a job to do," Norah said testily.

The dark-haired demon sighed. "Work, work, work." He looked at Jane appraisingly. "I think I might leave you alive. Until I have a _little_ more time for all the things I have planned." Jane would not look at him, her head hanging down in silence. Iranax grabbed her chin with his bloody fingers and wrenched her head up, angry now. He smiled, cold and crooked, and hit her hard in the temple. She was out cold before she hit the ground.


	13. Curse the Heavens

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

* * *

Curse the Heavens

"Ma'am! Ma'am, are you all right?"

Someone was shaking Jane's shoulder, gently, like they didn't want to hurt her. The voice—male, unfamiliar—however, was getting rather anxious.

Jane's head was in a fog, black and dense and thick. Slowly she came into focus, reaching into the light like she was wading through glue. She realized she was lying down, and _damn_ did she hurt all over. Some guy was still shaking her—did she pass out at a party? Funny, she didn't remember going to a party—

Jane sat up fast. A startled looking man nearly jumped out of her way, watching her intently. Jane almost fell back down again. Her head was throbbing and felt partially caved in, at least. She shook the pain away, her mind suddenly racing with bigger things, everything that had happened last night….

"Where's Castiel?" she said frantically, barely noticing the man crouched next to her.

"Huh? Look, miss, you'd better—" Jane ignored him and pushed herself off the ground. She was damp with morning dew, and the soft light of sunrise was bathing the small patch of lawn in color. The man seemed to think she shouldn't get up, because he kept trying to get her to lie down. Jane shrugged him off.

Castiel was gone. There was no sign of him, or the demons, except the marked-up grass, torn and muddy from the fight, and the remains of a broken bottle. The knife she'd dropped last night was gone too.

Jane took a few wobbly steps, staring in horror at the scene. Gone. They had him. He was dead—or worse, if they could do worse. _Oh God, what now?_

She almost fell over again, getting tripped up by her own feet and her stiff, aching muscles. Even the gentle half-light felt killer to her eyes. She half-crouched and tried not to throw up.

The anxious man grabbed her shoulders and tried to get her to sit down, babbling something about concussions and head injuries. "I'm fine," Jane muttered.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I called an ambulance, and you really should just sit tight for a minute," the man said, speaking slowly as if she was a very young child.

"No! I don't need an ambulance. I'm _fine_," Jane said, and she pulled away from the baffled good Samaritan, rubbing a hand to her throbbing head and feeling anything but fine. She had to get away from here, figure out what to do next, figure out what was going on. She stalked off even though she wasn't sure where she was going, no idea what she was going to do….

She had to find him.

Jane slammed the door of the beat-up pickup truck, glad to be out of its stifling interior and away from its leering driver. Hitchhiking sucked. She trudged over the dirty pavement, littered with gravel and debris. In front of her was St. Augustine's Church, small and innocuous. It was already becoming comfortingly familiar.

The rectory was unlocked, the lights out and beginning to grow dark as the sun dimmed and sank. Jane flicked the lights on in the hallway. She couldn't suppress a tiny pang of disappointment. She'd known, really, that no one would be here. Abdiel had made it clear that they were on their own, and the chances of Castiel turning up here had been, well, nonexistent. She hadn't been able to think of anything else to do, however, than to come to the church. It had started to feel like their base of operations. But now there was no one here but her.

Jane walked through each of the rooms anyway. The study, the living room, the kitchen—it was all empty. Her frustration mounted. What was she supposed to do by herself? Every hour that passed it was more likely that Castiel was dead, more likely the demons had broken the Seal, more likely they were coming for her. She was probably at the bottom of that list, although that didn't console her much. If she just had more time, or more information, or someone who knew what they were doing—

Jane sighed. She was worn out and desperate to do something, but everywhere there seemed to be brick walls keeping her back. The hallway now seemed particularly uninviting and she walked into the bathroom off the hall, hoping at least she could get something for her headache and maybe think of a plan.

She rummaged in the medicine cabinet for the aspirin she'd given Castiel and popped a couple in her mouth, dry swallowed and shoved the bottle back into the cabinet. She caught sight of her reflection as she closed the cabinet door. Besides the bloodshot eyes and dark circles that reminded her she hadn't slept in 48 hours, there was a nasty bruise forming on her cheekbone. It was splotchy and yellow, a remnant of the demon that had knocked her unconscious. She prodded it gently and winced. She could feel other bruises on the back of her head, from where she'd hit the tree, she supposed, and various assorted places, but they were the last things she cared about now. She gripped the sides of the sink, the cold porcelain under her fingers seeming to ground her there, in reality, when she felt her fragile calm chipping away. It was hard to recognize herself. The face in the mirror looked like a stranger, a slightly twisted face with a hollowness in the eyes she knew hadn't been there before. It scared her.

She slammed the cabinet shut. There was one place left, maybe her last recourse, even though in her gut she felt it was pointless now. She walked out of the bathroom, each step determined, trying to summon up the grit she couldn't feel.

St. Augustine's Church was cool and dark. It as empty once again—a town rather lacking in piety, she felt. The gently vaulted ceiling seemed to reach up, pointing towards the heavens, offering what assistance it could to deliver the many prayers it had heard. It seemed as good a place as any to curse the heavens.

Jane walked up the center aisle, her footsteps muffled in the carpet, eyes upward.

"Abdiel!" she shouted. Her voice was too loud, echoing through the church and returning empty. "Where are you?!" She waited for a long moment.

"Castiel's in trouble….and I need help…." she said, her voice dropping. She turned around the room, looking for something, anything, her words ringing through the church.

"Are you just going to abandon him?"

There was no response.

"Abdiel!" she yelled, louder than before.

"And how about you, God?" she shouted, angrier now, casting her eyes upward, hearing the bitterness but not caring. "Aren't you supposed to be watching out for us? Is this how you treat the people who do your work?!" She waited for her words to stop reverberating off the walls.

"Don't you hear me?" she said quietly. Still there was nothing.

"Help me!" The echo seemed to fill the entire room, right up to the great, vast ceiling as she stood in silence. She didn't know what she was expecting. A clap of thunder? A big, deep voice to come over the speakers _The Ten Commandments_-style? She exhaled heavily and hung her head. It was just her in an empty church, all alone, trying to save the world. She leaned against the side of a pew and hid her face in her hands.

There was at least one thing she could do. Jane shook off the fear, the abandonment, the awful sense that she was trapped by her own inexperience and about to let everyone down. Castiel needed her, Eliul and the demons were still out there, and somewhere they had the Seal. Maybe it was too late to save Castiel, and maybe it was too late to preserve the Seal, but she had been thrown in this that moment when she had seen her family's murdered bodies, and she wouldn't—couldn't—stop.

Jane searched for the hidden door in the recesses of the church, the one Castiel had showed her. Weak and powerless though the knife he'd given her had proved to be, she had felt better with it, that sign that she was not defenseless and she had some small power over the demons. There had been many objects in the basement, and perhaps one of them would let her know what to do.

She found the tarnished doorknob right where she remembered it, partially hidden. She grabbed it and gave it a tug—nothing happened. It jiggled slightly but was clearly caught on a bolt. Locked. Jane chuckled darkly. Figured. The entire universe was against her.

Inwardly groaning, she trudged out of the church and back to the rectory. She thought she might have seen a key lying somewhere around there.

The study was the first place of scrutiny. Jane opened the desk drawers, feeling slightly guilty about poking through someone else's things, although in this case she felt she was justified. Plenty of scattered paraphernalia, but no key. The side table and desk surface likewise offered no solutions. Jane folded her arms across her chest and looked around the room. The chief features of the study were the bookcases built into three of the walls and loaded with books. Bare spaces were filled with assorted objects, boxes, and the random junk that always seemed to collect in lived-in rooms. It was as good a guess as any. She tried the bookcase directly behind the desk first, shifting through the articles. Nothing. She moved her search to the higher shelves until she reached the topmost.

On tiptoes, she ran her fingers over the ledge, feeling for the telltale touch of metal. Finding nothing, she gripped her fingers on the ledge and hoisted herself up slightly, trying to peer at the surface of the shelf. Something snapped and, her added weight too much, the entire top shelf collapsed in a colossal and dusty heap. Several books narrowly missed hitting her in the face as Jane jumped back, startled. She sighed again. Abdiel was going to be annoyed she'd messed with his stuff. If he ever came back, anyway.

Jane started to pick up the books and papers, scattered all over the floor now with pages bent. She stacked a couple on the next shelf, plunking them down with exasperation. She looked at the place where the top shelf had been, examining it for the possibility of reinstallation, but she saw something else instead. There was a narrow crevice in the wall, just a small gap that might almost have been accidental, maybe caused by a shifting in the foundation. It had been hidden by the shelf and the books, buried into the wall behind, but it now sat exposed to the light. What interested Jane was the book shoved into the crevice.

She tugged it out, scraping the cover against the plaster of the wall where it was tightly wedged in. It was a plain brown volume, with no decoration or title on the cover, small but thick with pages. Jane turned it over in her hands, the worn leather smooth and cool. She opened the front cover. On the title page was a single word—_Seals._ Jane's heart beat faster. She flipped through the book, scanning the pages. It was filled with short passages detailing the Seals, hundreds of them, and pictures, grisly images of woodcuts and line drawings showing death and destruction. Her heart was thumping now as she flicked through the terrible pages and saw that the corner of one page had been folded back. She turned to it. Someone had made a small pencil mark in the margin, right next to a heading that read: _Seal of Yahweh-Yireh (The Altar)_. The passage underneath was short.

_One of the fourteen Greater Seals. It may be broken by the sacrifice of an angelic being upon it. Lost in the sixth century._

Jane snapped her eyes up. The pieces clicked. Abdiel knew. He'd known all along. Castiel said Abdiel had his own mission, something they weren't allowed to know about, something important to do with the Seals. _One of the Greater Seals_….He said this one was important and the demons would try to break it if they could. She didn't know what would happen if they did, but it sounded like something bad, to say the least. The angels, or at least some of them, knew where it was. They wouldn't leave it unprotected. They had sent someone….

Jane raked her memory for those tiny comments Castiel had made that had seemed insignificant at the time. All those things she didn't understand, those looks she hadn't quite picked up on….Castiel had said something, something about the demon's plans when they had seen the ritual at that burned-out apartment, what felt like a million years ago….What was it? They wouldn't break the Seal yet, because they needed something first…something they had just gotten. And that meant—

Jane dropped the book, broken shelf forgotten, everything unimportant now, and ran. The distance to the church seemed impossibly long and she felt like she was moving way too slow as she sprinted through the parking lot, skipped over the front steps and threw the doors open. The church was as she'd left it, dark and empty. But now she knew there was something else. Breathing heavily and feeling the beginnings of a cold sweat, Jane stood in the entranceway for a moment. Then she walked up the center aisle once again.

It seemed to take an age to get there. And then she was at the front of the church, in the old and tiny and insignificant church of St. Augustine. The altar stood in front of her. Funny she'd never noticed it before. She walked up to it. It was covered with a white cloth, the plain altar vestments reaching to the floor and creating nothing more than an unnoticeable blank surface. Gently, she caught the corner and pulled the vestment off.

Underneath was gray stone, a rectangular piece of rock marked with age, worn down from the smooth finish that must have once covered it. The sides were magnificently carved with figures and letters, chipping away in places but delicate and unearthly. It looked ancient and powerful. Jane stood in awe, hands barely brushing the surface, almost feeling the pulse and hum of something otherworldly inside the carved stone.

A crash shot through the church. Jane jumped and spun around, the cold sweat now trickling down her spine. The doors had just been thrown open, and hell was about to break loose.

* * *

A/N: I just realized I stole the underground-church-arsenal from the show. Fail. Anyway, we're nearing the end here. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and everyone who is reading.


	14. In Infernum

Disclaimer: I do not own and did not create _Supernatural_ or Castiel.

* * *

In Infernum

Castiel knew he wasn't going to survive this one. It had been a long time since he'd seen demons kill one of his own kind, and he had not expected to see it again for a long, long time. Funny how it was going to be him.

There were five demons in the church. Eliul led the way, the crash of the doors he'd thrown open still resounding through the church. He'd taken a new body, a man in his early forties, with a hard, intelligent face, made sharper and crueler by Eliul's spirit. Two demons dragged Castiel through the doors. They were underlings, he knew, and he was ashamed he was too weak to fight them. Two more demons followed, doing what, Castiel did not know.

Castiel struggled to pull his head up. Jane was there, standing in front of the altar, and he felt his heart sink. So she had figured it out. He had hoped—a tiny, half-believed hope—that she might be safe, might be far away from here. She had realized, like he had, too late where the Seal was.

Castiel's vision began to black out around the edges, everything becoming fuzzy and distant. He knew this was his human body failing, just as he felt the blood steadily trickling down his right eye and the broken bones. He concentrated, trying to focus his vision. Jane stood before the altar, watching Eliul advance, horrified. She didn't try to run, and even though Castiel knew it wouldn't matter if she did, he wished she would anyway. He hated this helplessness, that he could do nothing to save her. The two demons dragged him along, his stumbling feet that could no longer support his weight leaving bloody, muddy smears on the carpet.

"It's a thing of beauty, isn't it?" Eliul said, his voice unnervingly monotone. He addressed Jane, who watched him with revulsion, but the fear seemed gone from her face. Castiel strained to keep his head up, trying to see what was going on. Jane's eyes darted to him, but he could offer her no solace. Eliul stopped, a few steps below the dais where the altar sat, looking up at Jane with a slight smile.

"Carved from the stone where Abraham bound Isaac for sacrifice, before the…_Lord_ spared him," Eliul said, sneering at the name, as though he couldn't quite manage to get the word out. He viewed the carved stone appraisingly, seeming to admire its beauty. "Not so merciful with the rest of us, however."

The two demons holding Castiel had stopped, a few paces behind their leader. Castiel hung between them, trying to fill his lungs with air. It was getting difficult. Every breath felt like breathing through a sponge, wet and full of holes. He managed to blink his eyes through the blood and see what would happen.

Eliul cast his eyes over Jane, and she flew against the wall, slammed there and held stuck. She met Castiel's eyes again and he felt the anger springing up, filling him for a moment with a tiny surge of strength. He tried to access something, anything, some portion of his power they hadn't sapped away or bound already, just enough to throw them off and maybe, maybe—

The demon punched him in the side, hard, and Castiel felt a rib snap, a sick, wet, twig-snapping sound. He would have collapsed if they hadn't been holding him up. It was terrible to be bound by this body, held hostage to its physical limitations and completely unable to escape its pain, pain that crashed out the strength he'd felt a moment before. He drew in a ragged breath as the blood pooled in his mouth.

Eliul was watching him. His eyes weren't black, as Castiel knew the others' were. Eliul had no fear of him, and he watched Castiel with a soft smile even as the others were loathe to come near the angel, the demons holding him shrinking away as far as they could. One of them, one behind him he couldn't see, took the opportunity to kick him behind the knee, and his legs crumpled again. Eliul stood approvingly.

Jane made a noise of rage and frustration, bound by invisible chains against the wall. Castiel wished she didn't have to see this.

"Let's get busy," Eliul said to the demons. There were chuckles, and Castiel felt himself being dragged again, couldn't see anything except the carpet dirty with the blood dripping out of him. They dragged him onto the dais and hauled him up to the altar. The four demons pulled him up, roughly and clumsily. Broken ribs, punctured lung, so many injuries Castiel didn't know or understand, but felt. They spread his body over the surface, one of them twisting his arm back. Broken, dislocated shoulder by now, he thought. He sucked in a breath but would not let them hear him cry out.

There was so little of him left. He could not leave…. His powers were bound in some way he did not understand, some way that should not have been possible but clearly was. The isolation was the worst of it. His brothers were gone, and if any knew what was happening, they did not come. Even his sense of his Father was fading, slipping away into nothingness. Castiel tried to focus. He felt the point in the center of his soul, felt the light there, the strength like a heartbeat that was not gone, always beating, reminding him of who he was, everything he trusted. After everything he'd experienced last night, he was almost surprised he could still feel it.

"What are you thinking about?" Eliul said, suddenly up close to Castiel's face, peering into his eyes before Castiel had even heard him approach. Castiel met his enemy's eyes, unfaltering. Eliul quirked the corner of his mouth up.

Eliul traced a finger across the surface of the altar, inches away from Castiel's body. He was too weak, could barely move. He struggled to find that light again. The other four demons stood guard at the corners of the stone slab. No escape.

"Kill an angel on the Altar…." Eliul said in a slightly sing-song voice. He snapped his finger up. "A perfect sacrifice. Well, close enough to perfect. That's the only way it can be broken, you know. Through murdered blood, spilled over its surface, seeping into the cracks….Holy blood." He regarded Castiel, looked at him almost fondly. "I'm glad it got to be you."

"Stay away from him, you bastard!" Jane shouted, fury in her voice. Eliul turned, frowning slightly.

"_You're_ in no position to make requests," he said. Jane was visibly struggling, but the demon's power barely allowed her to twitch. Eliul glanced over to his lower ranking demons, a thin, older man and a dark-haired young woman. "Keep her entertained," he said with a jerk of his head.

The two left the altar, their eagerness palpable in the air. Castiel couldn't see what was happening, could no longer keep his head up. "Jane…."

The blond woman, Norah, leaned over him and put a finger to his lips. "Shh-shh-shh. There will be plenty of time for noise later," she said with a smile. Eliul stretched his hand out. The other demon placed something in it, something that glinted softly in the low light. A knife. "Got this one from your own collection," Eliul said.

Castiel's eyes darted from Eliul to the weapon, his vision hazy with the blood dripping into his eye and the pounding in his skull. He was not afraid of the end. He was sorry this borrowed body would die, wretched over the soul in this vessel who would die with him, and hating that he would be the cause of Jane's death too. Eliul bowed over him, close, and trailed the point of the knife down his chest.

"You know why we chose you, Castiel, and not your friend the priest?" he whispered, his voice steady and even, the tip of the knife pricking between Castiel's ribs. "You are the weaker one." He stopped the knife's progress, stopped it at a point directly in the center of Castiel's chest. He spun it on its tip, gently. Then he pressed down, and the knife sank into flesh, grated over bone. Castiel closed his eyes and felt the pain wash over him. It was a bright red flood, horrible, but clean. It could not reach to his true self.

Eliul seemed annoyed by the lack of response. He pulled away the knife and it cut new gashes in the bone, deeper this time. The two demons watched with hungry, black eyes that betrayed their fear. "You're going to have to give me something more than that, Cas, or I'll have to get my kicks from somewhere else." He nodded to the two lower demons guarding Jane.

Castiel could not see, so Eliul gripped the hair at the back of his head and pushed his head up, holding it there so Castiel had a clear view of Jane. The woman demon regarded Jane, head tilted thoughtfully. Then she put her finger around Jane's neck, not tightly, but Jane stiffened immediately. She seemed to want to scream but couldn't, her eyes wide and scared. She gasped, struggled to breath, but it was choked, cut-off sound. She met eyes with Castiel for one long moment before her head dropped and blood dripped from her mouth. Castiel could taste his own blood rising in his throat. Jane twitched and did not move.

"Stop. Stop!" Castiel said, louder than he thought he could. Eliul released him and his head fell to the altar, hitting the back of it hard. White spots danced in front of his eyes. He couldn't tell if the demons had let her go.

Eliul ducked down, intensely impassive except for the shining eyes. He leaned close and whispered in Castiel's ear. "You've failed her. You've failed your mission. You are completely in my power. You never should have involved her, old friend…." He glanced over at Jane, a rare smile of pure glee passing over his face. He turned back, all seriousness now. "But I might give you a chance to save her. You just need to do one thing for me…."

Castiel's eyes darted to his enemy's face.

"Give up your grace."

"Don't do it, Castiel. I don't care....Don't do it," Jane said, her voice weak, barely able to get the words out, but the strength behind it was clear.

Eliul ignored her and stared at Castiel, willing him to accept, so persuasive, so understanding….He was going to die anyway. Just give up this little thing, how could he not? He was ground down into the dust, utterly defeated, powerless, alone….

"You can go to Hell," Castiel said.

Eliul's mouth twisted into a sneer. "How unfortunate," he said, and he cast a glance to his demons. Castiel had no strength to spare, long since past the point where he could support himself, but he didn't need to. He could hear the blows landing, hear Jane's grunts of pain and intakes of breath. He felt hot fury and if he had not been bound by these unknown powers, what wrath would have been unleashed.

Eliul toyed with the knife, the small, gold-colored blade stained pink now, looking dull, the sharp edges long since worn away through some sinister use. For a long moment, it was almost silent in the church, the only sounds coming from the wall where the demons did their work. "Wait," Eliul said suddenly. "I'd like her to see this."

Blessed silence. Castiel was finding it harder to stay in focus now. He could feel his perception slipping away, not sure if it was because of the wounds his body had sustained or something else. His mind felt clouded, distant, and he had to struggle to pull himself back to earth. Eliul was watching him again, seemed to know exactly what was going on inside his head. He held the knife so Castiel could see it and spoke softly, every word hard and piercing to his soul.

"Do you know how I spent my time in the Pit after our last…encounter?" He paused, as if waiting for a response. "Thinking of all the things I'd like to say to you. But now that I'm here, I find words just really don't cover it." He examined the knife, saw Castiel's eyes on it as well. Swiftly, he moved it to Castiel's side, the point slipping through the fabric of his clothing and just almost cutting skin.

"Does your god hear you, Castiel?" he whispered. "He won't be able to hear you unless you scream." He jabbed the knife in and it slid through the fleshy part of his side, unobstructed by bone this time. Blood would pour out, cover Eliul's hand and seep away from this body, and Castiel could not stop it. Eliul twisted the knife, and Castiel could _feel_ the flesh cutting, tearing, destroying vital organs. It wouldn't kill him yet.

"What was he thinking when he commissioned you to save the Seal?" Eliul asked as he pulled the knife from the wound. "Abdiel was the better choice. Stronger. Wiser. More than a few of us think twice before crossing him." He bent over the bleeding angel. "But you? What have you ever done? The first Seal you're supposed to preserve and you end up pinned on it. I think God has a sense of humor."

"I trust him," Castiel said through a wet, raspy breath.

"You don't know him." He moved the knife to Castiel's face, rested it flat against his cheek, the point angled at his eye. "How's that soul you're sharing in there doing? I wonder if he'd mind loosing an eye." There was no mercy there, even the amusement hidden. Castiel did not flinch, even though his body was in torment and his soul suffering at Eliul's words. He stared at the ceiling, the vaulted rafters seeming to lift to Heaven. He tried to find his Father, tried to feel the presence that he had never been without, the connection….

Silence.

Eliul chuckled. He moved the knife away from Castiel's eye, leaving a bloody smear across his cheekbone. He locked eyes with Castiel, dead serious, straight-faced. "You're going to die, Castiel."

"He will…rebuke you," Castiel gasped, blue eyes wide.

"_Your father_ forgot all about you," Eliul whispered, his eyes hard, and Castiel saw them turn black. He looked excited. He leaned close and spoke in his ear so quietly Castiel was sure even the other demons, still standing near, could not hear it. "You know I can't kill you yet. You know how this works. You need to surrender yourself to me, and this will all be over. You won't have to face his wrath. You won't have to feel this pain, this fear, this _despair_, this sick, twisted thing he calls humanity. It's too awful. You know it. _Do it_." He grasped Castiel's hand and put the knife in it, the handle slick and sticky with blood, blood on Eliul's hand, and now on Castiel's. Eliul positioned the knife over Castiel's heart, his hand clenched over Castiel's and the knife in his fingers, the point digging into his chest.

Castiel felt the tiny light, buried beneath his skin under the knife. The warmth seemed to leak away, the light growing dim, closer to the surface now, almost aching to feel the knife point. He'd failed. He was shaking, hand trembling, and Eliul's dark eyes were staring into his, cutting out the light, piercing his soul. _Father…Father…._ No one would come. No one could hear. He was so weak, and so tired. He never had the strength to do this. They would all fail, the demons were too strong, too many. He just wanted to go away, wanted this to end, wanted to escape into blissful nothingness, the end of existence, the light stamped out and never feeling, never hurting….

"Castiel," he heard Jane say in barely a whisper, her voice breaking. The knife was in his hands, gripped tight like it was the most important thing in the world. Eliul was still there, great black eyes that were the only thing that mattered, and the knife. He held it by himself now, came closer to sinking it down, pressed against his heart that was beating wildly and pumping more of his blood over the altar. He felt it in his hands. Eliul was saying something, some words he knew he should fear, but he could not understand.

"_Visi diabolus opprimo hic creatura Dei, mannum uni maleficus depono sanctimonia—"_

God didn't care about him. He was nothing.

"—_Cruor angeli addo ruina—"_

His Father had forsaken him.

"—_Sanctimonia est verto super ipsum, sanctus unus infectus. Ingredior, Lucifer!"_

It was over.

* * *

A/N: My apologies for the very, very long absence. I gave myself a bit of a break over Christmas and took my time to write what was supposed to be a very long, epic chapter, then got held up by some details in my personal life. So I'm posting the first half of this chapter, which was originally going to be much longer, and hope my readers will forgive me for my negligence. More (honestly!) coming soon.


	15. Cast into Hell

Cast into Hell

So close. Castiel could see himself do it. The image in his mind grew until he wasn't sure if it was real or not, couldn't tell if he was imagining it or if he had already done it. Cut out his grace. Only an angel could do it. The ultimate act of free will. So easy. The knife was in his hand, and Eliul wasn't holding it there anymore. The pain slipped away until all that existed was the dull throbbing of that light behind his heart and the knife pressed up against his chest, drawing blood, waiting for the command.

It was so terrible.

"No!" Jane shouted, the sound torn and horrible and Castiel was glad he couldn't see her face, glad he didn't have to know what she would think when he destroyed himself. He felt something there in his second sight, a burst of energy, almost. Maybe they had killed her. Didn't matter, really. The end was just there, waiting…. He closed his eyes.

* * *

There was blood dripping onto Jane's chin. Most of it came from internal injuries, something the demons had done to her just by looking, something dark and unnatural. The rest of it came from when she bit her lip when she saw Castiel grip the knife Eliul pressed into his hand and hold it against his heart like he was going to cut it out. Castiel, sprawled out on the altar and surrounded by three demons, too weak to fight them off or even move. She wasn't used to seeing him like that. She hadn't thought he could be like that. He was strong, fierce, scary even in his otherworldly power. Never defeated. Never about to cut into himself. Jane didn't know what it meant, but she knew it was bad and she knew it meant Castiel, everything, was over.

She hadn't seen him in ten hours. They must have put him through hell to get him like that.

Jane shouted, desperate. Castiel had the knife and he was holding it himself, and Eliul was watching over him, brimming with taut excitement, waiting for the moment when he would bring it down. The five demons in the church, even the two standing over her, guarding her and keeping her locked in place against the wall, were all fixed on the angel. Blood spilled out of her split lip and up her throat. Castiel was going to die. That wasn't the worst of it. She didn't even care much that _she_ was going to die, or that the Seal would be broken. But they were going to make him something like them, make him fall and turn into something evil. Not the Castiel she knew. Not the one who had rescued her more than once. Not the one she'd fought next to, side-by-side.

She couldn't let that happen.

Blood was bubbling up her throat but it didn't _matter_, it was just her, stuck against this wall, and Castiel, lying on that slab of stone, and the demon, waiting. Adrenaline or rage or something stranger burst through her blood, fuel for battle. And then everything felt different. Jane spat out the cry of fury building in her core and she was free. The bonds burned away and she dropped to the ground, barely noticing what she was doing. Something was taking over her and she was driven by instinct, pure, blinding instinct that felt _right_.

Two demons in front of her. They turned from the altar, saw her on the floor, confused. The female demon tilted her head, uncertain of this new occurrence. Jane didn't pause. She gritted her bloody teeth and launched up, grabbed the demon by the throat, this demon who had torn her up inside and made her helpless. Now its eyes were black and wide. Jane didn't know what she was doing but she knew what felt right and she locked eyes with the creature. She felt almost calm. The demon tried to say something, choked words stumbling through the stolen throat. Jane didn't care. The black eyes filled with light, as if a fire was shining behind them. She kept the gaze. The demon crumpled and Jane let go, hardly aware of what she'd just done and as shocked as if she'd just killed a demon with her bare hands. Which she had. This was turning into a weird day.

The other demon—male, older—looked shocked too. Jane swung at him hard and hit him in the jaw. It felt like hitting cement. He grabbed her arm and twisted it back, sneering, but it was more angry and scared than triumphant. Jane winced as her muscles wrenched, but pain seemed insignificant now. She laid her hand on the man's arm, on the exposed skin, and held tight. Black eyes met brown. Trapped. The light burned again, and the second demon fell.

Jane didn't know, or hell, _care_ why this was happening. Didn't matter. She had to save Castiel. She sprinted up the steps, those few short paces to the altar that might be just too far away, just too late….

* * *

Eliul looked up. This was an unforeseen event. True, he'd known what the human was, but he'd rather doubted she would live long enough to make that realization herself, or learn to access those certain…qualities. It was a mistake on his part. Still, it was easily remedied. Castiel was close to it. An instant longer. To have everything dashed at this last moment would be intolerable. Eliul turned his attention away, already annoyed that he might miss witnessing it and eager to tie up this loose end. The girl was running towards the altar, just a few steps away. The nerve. Humans never realized what they were up against until it was too late. He waited for her to come to him. A quick snap of the neck, and victory.

* * *

"Castiel!" Jane shouted. Angry. Strange that she should be angry with him at this moment. Nothing seemed real anymore. It was dark under his eyelids and that was really all that mattered. He felt separate from himself, as if his soul was already detached. Sliced out. The thought hit Castiel with a pang. She wasn't bound anymore, but obviously that was impossible. Yet she seemed to be coming closer, running, in fact, and yes, shouting angrily. Eliul would kill her. But she had evaded the lower demons. Strange.

Castiel opened his eyes. And there was Jane, standing on the dais, being observed by Eliul, who looked annoyed. Castiel couldn't feel his body. Had he already done it? But Jane was there, about to die. Trying to save him. How had she gotten away? He could not feel the presence of the lower demons and realized they were gone. Banished? Jane wouldn't be there long, because he had failed her anyway, and it didn't matter if there were two less demons around to witness his fall from grace.

Everyone paused. Jane stood tense on the dais, breathing hard, locking eyes with Eliul, who stood next to the altar, looming over Castiel's bleeding form. The two other demons were somewhere behind them, waiting for orders, or to see who would make the next move. Castiel realized he had paused too and felt the sensation return just enough to feel the knife pressing against his chest. Jane met his eyes for a brief second.

He seized Eliul's wrist and poured every last drop of his strength into the grip. The flesh turned hot under his fingers and smoke leaked out, the thin steam drifting upwards. Eliul's eyes were black and wide but he did not flinch, did not pull away. Castiel thought it might not be enough. His last effort and it wasn't good enough. Eliul looked darker and darker as the power crept deep, past skin and bone and into his very essence, but he wouldn't tear his eyes away from Castiel's, and he knew at any moment it would be the end. Weak and failing, he would end.

Jane shoved Eliul with all her strength, and the connection was broken. The demon went tumbling off the dais. The others were close at his heels. One, in the body of a young dark-haired man, dashed to his fallen leader, examining him for a moment. Castiel doubted he was dead. He was sure he did not have the strength for that. The young demon seemed to reach the same conclusion, but he glared at Jane anyway and moved to approach her.

"Shall we finish this?" he snarled. Castiel recognized him, one of the demons from the attack the night before. The one who had taken such delight in tormenting Jane.

Jane was unfazed. Castiel had never seen her like this, so ready for battle. She had been eager for revenge before and not unwilling to meet the demons in combat, but she had been so naïve, so untested and unskilled. He had needed to protect her before. But this was different. She was calm, prepared, brimming with the thrill of battle that he knew so well. It was a feeling he had felt many, many times himself.

Jane didn't wait for further invitation. She launched herself at the demon and it was a wild tussle of fists and elbows. They wrestled for a moment—it was clear the demon was the stronger, and he got Jane's arms in a lock grip, chuckling under his breath. Jane staggered around, trying to break free of his grasp. They ran against the edge of the altar, close to Castiel, but he could do nothing to help. His strike against Eliul had wiped him out and the darkness was creeping into his vision again. A few moments longer….

Jane and the demon scuffled for a moment, Jane pinned to the side of the altar, painfully similar to the position Castiel was in. The demon laughed softly, his hands around Jane's wrists as she struggled fiercely. A moment later she seemed to realize it was useless and stopped dead. Then she slammed her forehead into the demon's head, as hard as she could. It appeared to do her more damage, unfortunately. The demon staggered slightly and the smirk dropped away, but if anything, it only made him angrier. But it gave Jane the break she needed. She reached a hand out and touched the demon's face, fighting for her hold. Castiel knew she was doing something. The demon seemed to realize too. He looked almost scared and pulled her hand away, not without a struggle.

"New tricks," he said, but the bravado sounded false. He was rattled. Jane stared back furiously, then kneed him sharply in the gut. The demon, surprised, doubled over, and Jane gave him a hard kick that sent him tumbling down the steps, on opposite sides of his master but equally immobilized. For now. The other demon, the blond woman, shrieked.

"Iranax!" She ran to his prostrate form.

Jane rushed to the altar. Her eyes took in Castiel, lying there helpless, and his wounds. He knew they were bad. He was uncertain how much this body could take, but it felt like he was reaching his limit. Jane looked like she didn't know what to do.

"You can…help me," Castiel whispered.

"You're going to Hell first," the blond demon said suddenly. She appeared on the opposite side of the altar, spitting vitriol and reaching across for Jane. Jane swung her arm back and punched her in the face. The demon went down.

Castiel saw they had only seconds. "What do I do?" Jane asked. She was scared. He didn't know how long this would last, how long the demons would be kept at bay, and he was surprised he had the strength even for this. Any moment and it would give out. He didn't know how this was possible. Jane should be dead. She had broken free, and subdued the lower demons somehow, and that was impossible. How could she do anything? She was a civilian, no idea about this world, let alone the power to control it. But she wasn't dead, and he wasn't dead, and that gave him courage for the first time that night. A moment ago he was so close, so close to despair, that horrible thing he had prayed never to experience. And now Jane was here. The knife slipped away, his fingers uncurling from it, and it hit the floor with a clatter. His grace seemed to grow stronger now that it was away from it, lighting up behind his heart and knocking away the chill from his soul. He felt the small prickling of hope and it seemed to grow inside him, and he decided this would not be the end.

There was one thing left. He didn't know if it was possible, but he hadn't believed Jane would survive this long, or be able to fend off those demons. Maybe impossible things were closer than he thought.

"Tell me what to do," Jane said, still scared, but there was the grim, desperate determination he understood all too well. Words were beyond him now; he did not think he could speak. His eyes were wide but he forgot the pain, nothing mattered except this. Praying he did the right thing, he grabbed Jane's wrist, the bone grating in his dislocated shoulder, and thrust her palm to his forehead.

It happened instantaneously. His back arched, ripping at the bones, and he knew he was screaming, and everything was white, beautiful, pure light. Freedom. The mortal coil put aside and the form he knew, the form he _was_ finally released.

Jane stared with wide eyes. Castiel had almost forgotten her. The bliss of resuming his true form wiped out almost everything, and he had not paused to consider this. Humans couldn't see his appearance without dying, or being terribly injured. But here was Jane, seeing him in all his true glory and not dead, not damaged. Then Castiel understood.

But there was no time for that now. He had his mission, his last, most terrible, most important thing. He must finish it.

"Nice to see you again, old friend," Eliul said. He watched Castiel's towering form with unflappable calm. Castiel descended. He had the demon in his power. Under his hand, as it were, and now Eliul was the one pressed up against the altar, at his mercy. The borrowed skin blistered, so close to the angelic substance. Jane backed away, wisely.

* * *

Jane could not believe what she was seeing. Sure, she knew Castiel was an angel, but that knowledge was mostly relegated to the purely intellectual areas of her brain. He _looked_ like a normal, albeit scruffy, guy in a tie and trench coat, and yeah, he could teleport and exorcise demons, but he still seemed pretty human. But this….Jane was pretty sure she was seeing what no human being was supposed to be seeing, and for the first time she fully understood Castiel's true nature. She backed away, wide-eyed and fascinated, and more than a little scared. Castiel, or the weird-glowy-whatever thing, was already advancing on Eliul. This was a battle between them.

Jane was considering what she should do when a hand reached up from behind and grabbed her. _Damn_. She knew there was something she was forgetting.

"Little bit of free time while the big kids are playing," a voice breathed in her ear. Jane mentally kicked herself for letting the two demons left out of her sight. The dark haired young man held her from behind, one hand holding her neck while the blond demon sauntered into view and collected the fallen knife that had come so close to killing Castiel. "And we never got a chance to finish up," he said.

The blond demon looked rather annoyed. "You want to do the honors, Iranax?" she said, flaunting the knife in front of Jane's face.

"You go first, Norah," he replied.

Logically Jane knew she should be scared, but instead she rolled her eyes. This day wasn't likely to get any freakier, so she might as well just go with it. There was something there that she could tap into, just barely, reaching almost purely by instinct. Something that felt right. Jane could feel the light pooling inside her, stoked the fires and let it do its job.

The effect was gratifying. The demon holding her suddenly hissed and threw her off like repelling sides of a magnet, clutching his burned hands. Jane took the opportunity to kick the blond demon squarely in the knee. Her legs buckled underneath her and she dropped to hands and knees. Jane stomped her foot down on the demon's wrist and grabbed the knife. The demon looked up, startled and furious, and made to lash out, but Jane was too quick. She slashed the little knife across the demon's face and was rewarded with a shriek of rage and pain.

It was short lived victory. Jane turned to face off the other demon, geared up to attack with everything she had left. He was ready for her. Before she could do more than realize he had his open hand reaching out, she was thrown back, hurled by that same damn demonic superpower that had gotten her before. She skidded across the floor and stopped a good twenty feet away from them, dazed from the fall.

The dark haired demon was already helping his comrade up. He gave Jane one last dirty smirk, and the demons took off. They knew when the tides had turned against them.

* * *

"You did good, Cas. I didn't think you'd make it this far," Eliul said, voice emotionless, eyes black and cool.

"This is the end, Eliul," the angel said. His voice shook the building like a miniature earthquake.

A smile spread over Eliul's face. "Not quite."

The demon turned inside himself, burrowing in the soul of his captive body and sucking it down into the abyss that was his black eyes. Castiel followed, their physical forms still locked in place, but his spirit was hunting, racing down the empty hallways inside the body, light and dark, twisting. Eliul was hiding there somewhere. Castiel felt the dimming presence of the original soul in that body, terrified and confused. Eliul would be close to it, hiding behind it, knowing Castiel would be slow to lash out for fear of hurting the innocent soul. Somewhere lurking. It was a dark maze and Castiel was guided by instinct, seeking out the presence.

_There_. It was cornered. The two souls faced each other off, circling, searching for weaknesses. Castiel was the first to strike. The demon fell under his force and he prepared to bind it, lock it away for a millennia.

_Had to do it all alone, Castiel_, the demon said to him. A last attack, fueled by desperation.

_You are alone_, he answered. _You are cast into Hell. Tell your master what the infernal forces are against._

The end of a long battle. It had been fought furiously and claimed lives, consumed his soul for a long, long time. It was fitting that it would end in this dark, secret place, away from the light that would glorify his adversary's actions.

And he had been so close to defeat. Despair. But he resisted, and perhaps his Father had a reason for giving him this mission after all.

Eliul's spirit roared, and Castiel held on until it evaporated, nothing more than a harmless puff of smoke.

The dark recesses of the soul were difficult to navigate. Castiel followed the light, out and away from the innocent body that had been stolen by Eliul and made to see so much. He could no longer feel the presence of its original soul. Castiel found the way out and burst forth, glad to leave the unfamiliar skin. Casting the demon into Hell had weakened him. His form exploded with light and he let himself slip away, where everything was light and darkness.

* * *

A/N: Whew. The next chapter will be the last. Thanks to everyone who kept up with this story, and I absolutely will get the last chapter up within the next five days before _Supernatural_ starts up again. Rock on, fellow Castiel fans.


	16. Revelations Pt 2

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

* * *

Revelations Pt. 2

"I was starting to think you weren't coming back." Jane didn't bother to turn around. She knew he was there, just appeared behind her. Almost silently, except for that sound like wings.

"I'm not coming back."

She sighed. "Yeah, I kind of figured." It was a beautiful day, bright sunshine and big, puffy clouds. He came over and sat beside her on the stone bench, some memorial bench commemorating someone's dearly departed. She'd read the name, but she'd already forgotten what it was. The graveyard was empty and it was peaceful under the oak tree, the breeze swaying the leaves and rolling the clouds away.

She turned to look at him. He was watching the clouds too. "You look better. Angel superpowers, huh?" He'd been beaten and bloody last time she'd seen him. Last time she'd seen him in human form, at least. He looked back to normal now, even though some of those wounds should have killed him. No bruises, no broken bones. Even his coat and suit were spotless, tie askew as usual. She was going to have to ask him about that sometime.

"I can't believe it's really over." They both stared out at the field of neglected tombstones.

"It's not over yet. This was only one battle in a long war, and there will be many more to come. It was a blow to the enemy, but they don't give up easily. Neither do we," Castiel said, his voice hard. He sat slightly hunched, hands folded as if in prayer.

Jane found it hard to speak, but she was glad she had someone to say this to. She ducked her head, trying to find the right words. "It felt good to fight. I wanted to hurt him. What happened last night, Castiel?"

Now he was the one to look pained. He didn't look at her, kept looking straight ahead. "This shouldn't be your burden, Jane. I've been asking myself, ever since I came here, why my Father sent me here. Why he chose me. It seems you are in the same position." He turned, looking sad. "This war that's coming…that we're fighting now….We're outnumbered. We are…weak. At times, it looks hopeless."

"You said there's always hope."

He nodded, turned back. He seemed to reach for the words. "That's why you're here, Jane. There are certain people who have been chosen. Chosen to fight with us. We need all the help we can get."

Take it all in stride. It made sense, but that wasn't what she cared about. "So you're saying…even if Eliul hadn't targeted me, I would have gotten involved in this. If I hadn't _met_ you that day—" How long ago had it been? It felt like years. "—this would have still happened." She watched his profile, the hooded eyes somber.

"We can't know what would have happened. But it was your fate to play a part in this war. Nothing could have changed that."

"And that's why I can…_do_ whatever that was back there." She gestured to the church, a short distance away from the graveyard. She hadn't been back inside since the night before and didn't feel like ever going back.

"Yes. Ordinarily, you would have been killed to see my true form, and you would never have survived the demonic attacks. It certainly explains some things. I should have seen it from the beginning…"

"Eliul knew, didn't he? He said something about it, that first night." She wasn't really asking. She stared off, unfixed, remembering that night in the warehouse. "He's not going to get out, is he?"

"Not while I'm here." He sighed, looked down. "But there are others who will step up to do his work. More are coming. This Seal was only the first step. Testing the waters. We saved this one, but there will be more. We have a long campaign ahead." Castiel looked at her, his lips pressed together. She didn't really want to think about what was ahead, but she knew he was right. It was just the beginning. Just one Seal saved. A lot more to go. Jane swallowed hard.

"Everything that happened last night--I guess I should be freaked out, but I'm not. I don't know, it just felt...right. Like I had been _waiting_ for it to happen. It felt...good. I..._killed_...people. How can that feel good?" She stared at him, but he wouldn't look back. He was calm. Always in control.

"It's a part of who you are. You were chosen for this." Flat words, like they were memorized.

"Well don't I get to choose? What if I don't _want_ to be chosen? What if I just want a normal life, where I don't have to kill demons or worry about the end of the world?" Jane asked, more than a little angry. Guilt was twinging up her spine, but she ignored it, even though she knew it wasn't Castiel's fault.

He sounded disappointed. "You have free will. One of our greatest gifts. And burdens. You could go back to your old life, live like a normal person, forget everything you've seen. Or you can fight with us." He met here eyes, but this time she felt like she couldn't do it.

"I thought I'd feel different."

"Your family," he said. Not a question.

"That demon, Iranax, said something to me, before. He said my sister...gave them her son, so they wouldn't kill her. Is that true?" God, she couldn't look at him.

"I wasn't there, Jane."

There was a long pause. It felt sick. Or maybe that was just in Jane's head, because that was how she felt. She was never going to know if it was true. But just the thought...the doubt, the question in her mind was enough to haunt her for a long time to come. She sniffed and tried to wipe her eyes covertly. "I want to fight. I know it won't bring them back, but I want to help. Eliul's gone, and revenge...doesn't taste like I thought it would. But if I can send more of those bastards back to Hell then maybe that'll feel a little better."

"Did you want justice or revenge?"

"What's the difference?"

"Revenge is what humans do."

She almost chuckled. Even if it was weak, the tension was sort of broken. "Don't get all philosophical on me, Castiel. I don't think you guys really care why I'm helping."

He didn't say anything, but they both knew it was true.

"So what about you? You were gone for a long time," Jane asked. The silence was getting to be too much for her, letting too many unpleasant thoughts in.

"Yes. Debriefing, you might say." He didn't elaborate, and Jane didn't press him.

He hunched over, elbows on his legs, head bowed. He looked like he was asking for forgiveness. "I came close to doing a terrible thing. I keep wondering if my Father's faith in me is misplaced."

Jane waited, unsure where he was going with this.

"I've been given command of our forces, here on Earth, to prevent the breaking of the Seals," he said, raising his head and sounding less than thankful.

"Congratulations."

"But more than that….I don't understand _why_ my Father allowed this. Ordered this. To be so tested…so close to the edge…I almost _fell_, Jane. How can any of this be right?" He looked at her plaintively.

Jane didn't have an answer. It hurt to see Castiel like that, looking as lost and confused as she was. He was supposed to have the answers. _He_ was the angel, wise and powerful, the leader, the one who knew what to do, yet here he was confiding in _her. _The reversal struck her along with the uncomfortable knowledge that she was hearing the innermost workings of his soul. She couldn't do anything except listen.

Castiel looked away, staring blankly. "I keep thinking...I almost betrayed my Father's trust. If you weren't there, what would I have done? I doubt myself. I doubt my mission, and...the plan. Why put me in command? I am weak. I don't know if I can do this. There are others who would be better."

"Abdiel would have fallen, Castiel. They chose you for a reason." She made sure she sounded certain.

Castiel brushed it off. "Abdiel saw what you were from the beginning. He was stationed here to guard the Seal…a waste of his powers. If he hadn't been called off he would have vanquished the demons, better than I could. " The tone of self-deprecation was back again.

"Castiel. You're the one who cast Eliul into Hell," Jane said, trying to be gentle but coming off stern. She moved to touch his shoulder, but she couldn't do it. Clearing her throat, she changed the subject, hating to see him like that. "Is Abdiel coming back here now?"

He looked up, squinting slightly in the sun. "He has his orders."

Castiel seemed to collect himself. He sat up a little straighter, turned to look at her seriously, his voice low. "Are you prepared for this?"

"What, do I have to make an oath or something? I said I'd do it. You're going to help me, right?" But she didn't like the look he gave her. Evasive, like he was going to say something she wouldn't like. He frowned and broke the gaze.

Jane was incredulous. "So, what? I just go off, by myself? Hunting down demons and saving the world?"

"This is only the beginning. There are more of you, some who'll be with you, all of you fighting for the same cause. And we will be out there. We'll be in touch."

Jane didn't say anything for a minute. Then she spoke up, quietly. "Will I see you again?"

He did not answer immediately.

"No. I don't think our paths will cross again." He paused. "And you should worry more if they have reason to."

Jane looked out over the graveyard, saw the patches of brown grass and fake flowers propped up against headstones, falsely cheery in a deserted burial ground. Take it all in stride. She and Castiel seemed content to carry on this conversation without looking at each other. Stuck in different places, maybe. Or just too many things that wouldn't make any difference to say. She sighed, quietly, so he wouldn't hear. "What about you?"

"I have someone to raise from Hell." He was watching the church, looking for something.

She made a sound, half chuckle and half scoff. "Right."

He turned to look at her now, shot her with those blue eyes that were too deep, made him look a million years old and so damn unhuman.

"Goodbye, Jane," he said.

"See you later, angel-boy." She didn't want to see him leave. The clouds went rolling past, sun too bright in her eyes. Jane sat alone on the bench, a girl with a mission.

THE END.

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A/N: Thank you all, and good night.


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